Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision
by WincestSounds
Summary: Sequel to Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs. Peeta's Pov. Captured by the Capitol, tortured by Snow's men for information, memories manipulated by Tracker Jacker venom, Peeta struggles with the 'real or not real'. Who can he trust? Rated reasonably.
1. Chapter 1 OPTA: Sacrifice

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Holy crow, lotsa writing to be done.

I'll admit, I've been slacking a lot. I'm werking mostly on stuff fer my website, considering that it's highly likely the rest of the chapters fer Opt C and D will be up on there, instead of here. Iuno, that's rly still undecided.

But there IS something special in store fer ppl that visit my site.

Two things before we start off this story:

The first is... I'm like... 16 pages deep into my original story, yeah, not even kidding.

The second is that I reached my anniversary here on FF dot net over the two week break. June 3rd, '03. Eight friggin years. Eight years on FF dot net. Yeah. That's insane. XP

Alright now that we've addressed those things, feel free to read, enjoy, and cringe. Thank you all fer being avid readers! Continue on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Question of the Week:<strong>

**-Current Week:** In my original story, you want me to address difficult topics such as_ teen pregnancy and loss of limb_. Name one, or a few, that yer interested in seeing in my story.

**-My Answer to the Last One: **"Like a paper doll." - Prolly a trademark term I picked up from reading Pendragon, where he used it in an odd and incorrect way (soldiers dropping from the roof like little paper dolls)? I use it in the correct way.

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

If you could only see the way she loves me

Then maybe you would understand

Why I feel this way about our love

And what I must do

If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says

When she says she loves me

Well you got your reasons

And you got your lies

And you got your manipulations

They cut me down to size

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - Sacrifice<strong>

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><p>Katniss Everdeen.<p>

That's who this entire story is ending with.

She's the girl that I've loved as completely and honestly as possible; all of my life.

The girl that was on fire, the Mockingjay, the Capitol's tool.

She and I, together, won the Hunger Games twice; more-or-less. Through fight and struggle, through loss of limb, through the souring of emotions. And the revelation of deceit.

She's the girl that I've fought for, time and time again, trial and blood, death and forfeit. She's the only thing that I continue to live for now.

That's Katniss Everdeen.

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><p>With her long black hair, trademarked and owned by her alone, the braid down her back. The mesmerizing eyes, the soft lips, the sallow skin, the starvation from lack of money for food.<p>

Her character built by lose of father, lack of a real mother, and absence of government guidance or care.

And I couldn't help but to fall completely and utterly in love with her.

It was something out of my control.

No five year old boy has such an epiphany. None, but me.

Watching her sing to the class, noting the birds falling silent to listen, enjoying her constant vigilance, her strength, her courage. There's not a girl alive that deserves the title of 'woman' more then her.

She has fought for her family, never thinking of herself. Approached the Capitol to stand in place for her younger sister. She's fought death for me.

Selfless, sacrificing. The constant victim.

The bird, trapped.

And now it's come down to the only thing that I can do to protect her from those that would have her killed.

It's my turn to be vigilant and courageous. But to do it alone.

The first thing I regret, is getting caught, naturally. But it's far too late at this point to deny that I'm stuck here where I am, in the face of every enemy standing in my way, without a shred of alliance or help. And it's impossible to save me.

The only thing that I can do is continue to protect Katniss in any way that I can.

I don't do it hesitantly. I would never pause, or take a time out, to decide which is more important. Self preservation, or the girl that I love?

There's only one answer to that.

Because my life is meaningless without what's driven me to this point.

What is life without love?

Hesitant, pausing, timed out. Still.

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><p>The fist connects with my jaw, not as still as loveless life, and I feel the back left corner of the chair I'm in slam against my skin for the umpteenth time. It's been repetitive over the past thirty minutes, and there's going to be a bruise there when it's done.<p>

Peacekeeper Fields watches from the door with his arms crossed, observing the beating like a dog watching a bird struggle with it's broken wing, and only stands straight up when the next fist manages to make me bite down on my tongue.

"Wait."

I taste the copper spill of blood in my mouth and am tempted to close it and allow the wound to remain to myself. But the second I do, clutch my jaw shut, it starts filling with the warm, disgusting liquid.

In an attempt not to make a complete mess over my chest, I swallow the blood down, grimace at it, and struggle not to gag at the disgust of what I've just done.

Fields and the other Peacekeeper turn to look at me, in the middle of their chat, with raised brows.

"Is there a problem?" Fields asks sharply, hands behind his back as he moves closer to examine me properly.

I keep my mouth shut as a response and turn away.

"Peeta?" Fields says in a warning tone, "Is there a problem?"

I can only guess that I've made a sound while swallowing the disgusting liquid down, so when he threatens me to answer, getting into my face with his sour smelling breath, I turn to stare into his cold eyes and spit out the new mix of blood and saliva over his features.

Fields reels back in surprise and disgust, wiping at his face as my mix of filth dribbles down over his nose, his lips and chin. And instead of his fist connecting with me, like I expect it to, his boot does.

The underside of his heel is flung upward and I'm out again with the neck snap, the jaw crack, and the gasp from me as the blood between my teeth is splattered onto the floor at my side.

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><p>"Is it really so hard?"<p>

I shake my head, but I'm positive what I mean to get out is something along the lines of 'hard, no. But it is not _possible_'. But my mouth is immovable. Inoperable. Broken, possibly. If the pain is indication, something is most definitely broken.

Fields sighs and wipes the blood out of my other eye, the one I can't open, "We just want you to answer a few questions for us, Peeta. It's that simple. The people of Panem never have to know. And Katniss doesn't either."

I glare up at him now, with both eyes, and he just smiles.

"We could cut out your tongue," he suggests, "Make you an Avox. Or cut off your balls, you might miss those."

I roll my eyes and look away. The threat is so pointless, weightless, I know he's just trying to startle me into an answer. But I'm not as cellophane encompassed as his threats are.

"Now, now, Peeta," Fields walks around to my other side, trying to get me to look at him directly, "You're grown enough, surely you know that acting like a spoiled brat is only going to get you killed."

I don't answer him mostly because I can't. And if I could, I'd just spit more blood in his face; my mouth is full of it.

He frowns when I don't even bother to try and respond, "Fine. We'll do this the hard way, then."

The doctor that's been standing at the door behind him, kit in hand, moves to me as well now and lifts up my chin from my right shoulder.

"Three?" He asks, glasses sliding a little down his crooked nose, and Fields nods.

My eyes watch his shaking fingers, old, wrinkled fingers, wrought with time and knowledge as they fold open the kit against his forearm and pluck out the third instrument in a line of tools.

I can't stop the obvious fear from showing over my face as my breathing speeds up, because I can't help but remember what happened last time.

This one is different though from the one that mentally damaged my hands. One end is curled up like a pig's tail, the cup of metal against it is like a deep spoon, and the base is twisted together. Innocent unless you know that it's going to completely compromise me. And there's going to be a worse effect to it, I think, then the last one.

Fields leaves the room with a turn of his long black boots and the doctor, who stares down at me pitifully, puts a set of yellow plugs into his ears.

He reaches out with the tool and watches me close. But the sound of the instrument, to my best knowledge, is normally so subtle until pressed against my face. So I'm wondering why he's doing this.

It's obvious enough when he flicks it._ He doesn't want to be deafened by my screams._

The sound, unlike anything else, feels like it's ripping my spine open, like it tears the very flesh and muscle, bone and cartilage into pieces. Like it's eating me alive.

My mouth, saliva filling it, opens in pain because I can't hold it closed anymore. Tears spring to my eyes. My fingers tingle on the tips with an odd, painful numbness. I can even feel the sharp sting, pulling up my thigh, through my groin, lacing around my intestines and finally the sick bubbles forth. I can't control the clutching of my stomach as I relive everything I've eaten from the day before.

I can't move at all as my muscles clinch, my arms lock up and start shaking violently out of my control. Every time I try to fight them down it feels like my bones are shattering in the protest. The screaming turns my puke red eventually. And, in time, I've crawled to a corner and screamed there, trying to put my arm to my mouth to stop it. Trying not to give Snow the satisfaction. But I can't.

I don't have that much control. I don't have _any _control.

Someone is stabbing underneath my ribs with the legs of a splintered, wooden chair and is twisting it around in the organs. Someone's using their long nails to rip down the threads of my muscles, ripping the nerves in my teeth, digging in behind my eyes with a hot poker.

There's no way to sleep with this pain shooting through me, but to fall unconscious once again. And then I lurch forth from the dark, sheer agony pumping me awake, keeping me alert as my body throbs.

It's obvious after some time, that I'm not going to get through this in any easy way. Moving my legs hurts, moving my arms hurts, blinking, wincing, screaming hurts. And the only thing that stops me is when my body finally locks me up from the shock and my heart gives out.

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><p>Life rushes back into me and I'm spluttering awake, mouth full of blood, some of it dried against my teeth, terror pulsing through me, pain screaming from my sides and back, and I snap my eyes open to see where I am.<p>

I turn over on my side and gag at the coagulated blood, spit it out, try to stop the vomit and stomach acid that follows, but fail to.

"Session fifteen, Katniss Everdeen," I hear a voice from somewhere around, but the only thing I see is black, "The mutt, having exceeded all expectations, begins movement into the rebellion of District thirteen with District Twelve Mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. The mutt, out of our range, will rest down until the retrieval of one Peeta Mellark."

_Mutt?_

I turn to the left, see a blur and feel a prickling sting and look down to watch the bead of blood form over the center of the back of my hand, and then the image blossoms in front of me. The black takes form in a scene of my life.

She's cutting me from the mud, washing my boxers in the stream, and staring at my manhood with a flushed face, then she's helping me into my clothes and I'm kissing her for the first time.

She helps me up and then we're in the cave and she's saying all of these sweet things, promises, _Katniss_. I smile, I can't help but smile. Because, _Snow, if you think that showing me Katniss is going to make my heart hurt, you're mistaken._

"You're mistaken, Snow."

I don't even realize that I've said it out loud until the end of the words, when my throat burns, gurgling with copper and acid.

More of her words fill my ears. "I love you," she's saying often. Sweet nothings. And this isn't bad. I miss her, but I know she's safe.

"Gale kissed me," she admits in a whisper and this one only manages to bother me so much, but is beaten out when she continues, "You don't have much competition anywhere."

Strong, strength, pride. But the old swirling words rise back up and swell.

"Mutt, session seventeen, Katniss..."

"You don't!" She's raising her voice to me, her mouth in a frown, disappointed, and the feeling inside of me is changing, "You're not competition."

"You're worthless," she hisses as an uncontrolled feeling of being cornered fills me. The room goes black again. Darkness blinding the ability to understand which direction I should move, whether I'm standing on the wall or roof.

I struggle to get up onto my feet, fight against the bones splintering and breaking, and feel the ground shuddering below me. I've got enough control, holding out my arms, legs shaking violently. But I'm floored when something snaps at my ear, some kind of...

Anger. It's instant, I feel... Attacked. I can't even explain why, but when I see her screaming at me, it twists something inside and I'm being threatened.

"You're not competition! You're nothing."

"Can we just be friends?"

I turn, startled, and I know she's here, she has to be somewhere around me, I can feel it.

"Katniss!" My throat, angered and wounded, still seems to be raising blood to my lips. I ignore it and look around.

_Lies,_ I struggle to tell myself_, these have to be lies._

Katniss isn't a mutt, Katniss isn't using me.

"Session fifteen, Katniss Everdeen, mutt."

"Session one, Katniss Everdeen," the voice says, "Instructed into District Twelve."

"No!" I shout, raising my fists out and moving to the nearest wall, "Shut up!" I kick at it, turn to grab the next one and something moves in front of me, startles me back to the center of the room.

"You don't know the lies I've been telling you, Peeta," her voice says to me.

"Katniss–"

"You'll fall for anything I say. Because you're weak, you're a fool."

I throw my body at the door, slam my fist into it, "You can try, you can keep trying. I'm not going to fall for it."

"You'll fall for anything I say."

The scene in front of me changes. It's Gale, obviously, he's kissing her. And she's obviously kissing back.

"Get close to Peeta Mellark, see what you can get out of him."

I stop, muscles tensing, and the voice whispers out to me like long, stretching, snake fingers caressing the terror inside of me.

"He's such a fool, this will be easy."

Doubt, _this is possible. I have been in love with her since the beginning. It's possible to lie to someone._ Rage,_ this is outrageous. How could she keep something like this from me? How could she say these things_. Concern,_**Why **__would she say that? What has she __**done**__?_

_No, no. She's not like that._

"She's not like that!" I scream, hands covering my ears, "I can't, I can't hear this. She's not like that."

The tears burn down my cheeks, my knee gives out and the fake one pulls me down as I lose the balance and control I've been struggling with. I'm curling into a ball, flush against the floor, and sobbing with my face pressed to the cold, hard ground.

"She's not like that, she's not like that. I swear she's not."

Gale, staring, and Katniss kissing him, her fingers running down his chest and wrapping around his waist like she's done to me so many times before.

I have to shut my eyes to get away, but I can't. There's something keeping them open. When I reach up to feel for what's keeping them wide, there's nothing. But I can't close them at all. The muscles are out of my control. Their locked, eyes wide and staring.

"I can't see this!" I scream, loud, howling out in pain, "I can't see! I can't see this!"

Her eyes, so full of hate, stare at me, burning deep through me as she kisses him.

"Katniss," I murmur, heart lurching in pain, blood pounding as I reach out to stop her, "Stop kissing him."

I move to the wall for comfort, move as close to her eyes as I can possibly be, but they glare still, and that doesn't matter anymore. It's still her. And she's not angry at me, she can't be angry at me because I didn't do anything wrong, and the last time I saw her she was... She was happy. _She was happy with me._

_She loves me. She's angry at Snow._

_This is all lies._

Finally, everything is black again, and I don't have to hear the lies anymore.

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><p>"You are a sick liar," I hiss between my teeth when the blackness fades away and I'm awake again. Awake, aware, and in serious pain. And he smiles down at me.<p>

"I wish I was, Peeta," Snow says, laying a simple young, red rose down at my side, "I really wish I was."

I sit up, arms shaking in shock, feel the tell tale prickle of a needle in my arm and snatch his hand, the doctor, surprised, puts his free one to my ear._ Not so free_.

Expecting pain of some sort, I'm unusually, unreasonably enraged, and the fury licks harshly at my insides as the red spills over my vision.

Snow leaves the room as I get to my feet, the doctor as well, and they lock the large, heavy door behind them.

"Peeta."

She's there on the wall, again, that... Katniss. Glaring, hating me.

I shake my head as the steps of the two men down the hall vanish from range.

"What took you so long?"

"Where are you?" I ask, turning around, furious, angry and I see her there now. Long black hair in the braid down her back and I move to her.

"Peeta," and she's smiling, harshly. I can't decide what to do, how to respond. Cry? Scream? I want to hurt her, want to touch her, want to press my lips against hers.

She smiles. _That _smile.

"Peeta, come here."

I move, step slowly, as she stretches out her arms in welcome.

"Come here, so that I can kill you."

Horror fills me, covering my blood in ice, and she starts to move to me. I shove her back, shove her from me.

I try to get away from her but her eyes are digging into me every which way I turn.

"Leave me alone!" I scream, "Don't touch me."

"Peeta," she's... disappointed, I think. She stretches out her arms again.

"Don't touch me," the anger, slamming against my head, whirls around again and I point out to her as I back away, "You stay away from me, you bitch."

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

*Vanish to Option B*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	2. Chapter 1 OPTB: Until Death

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Started watching Dexter again. Near the middle of Season 3, I think?

There's nothing like watching a serial killer to give you inspiration to write torture scenes. And gee, that sounds horrible.

Though really, I have Lady Gaga to thank fer one of my most heart-pumping scenes (see Option C Chapter 1, coming up just moments after this).

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Question of the Week:<strong>

**-Current Week:** In my original story, you want me to address difficult topics such as_ teen pregnancy and loss of limb_. Name one, or a few, that yer interested in seeing in my story.

**-My Answer to the Last One: **"Like a paper doll." - Prolly a trademark term I picked up from reading Pendragon, where he used it in an odd and incorrect way (soldiers dropping from the roof like little paper dolls)? I use it in the correct way.

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

So lately, been wondering

Who will be there to take my place?

When I'm gone, you'll need love to light the shadows on your face

And maybe I'll find out

A way to make it back someday

Towards you, to guide you, through the darkest of your days

I know now just quite how

My life and love might still go on

In your heart, in your mind, I'll stay with you for all of time

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - Until Death<strong>

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><p>Katniss Mellark.<p>

That's who this story ends with.

She's the girl I've always loved, since the moment I laid my eyes on her, before I even knew her name.

The girl that, in time, became my wife. The girl that was on fire. Snow's puppet.

Twice, we've beaten the Hunger Games when most don't even live through one and, those that do, are safe from it ever happening again. We survived against all odds, which were never in our favor.

She's the girl I'll die for. The mother of my unborn child. The victim of my uncontrolled obsession. She's everything I could have ever asked for.

That's Katniss Mellark.

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><p>The only body, form, personality, sense of humor, and ability to preserve and survive, put together for my adoration. The only one that I could ever find attractive, alluring, or arousing.<p>

Her trademark black braid running down her back. Her deep grey eyes that eat into my soul. Her pale, sallow skin that looks slightly sick in the sun. The full, pale lips that I can't stop myself from staring at. And I always wished to kiss. And they're now more familiar to me then my own face.

With compassion and concern for every being around her, she's been scarred by loss and struggle against the Capitol's control. Idolized her father until his passing, and been a mother to her sister before she was old enough to reproduce responsibly.

There was nothing on this planet that could've stopped me from falling madly in love with her.

You can never fight something so inevitable.

There was no way that I could've stopped myself.

And I have a tendency to wonder, sometimes, why I was the only one that fell so hard for her.

It doesn't make sense, when I think back on it, that just me and Gale Hawthorne would fall so much in love with her that we would fight to our deaths.

Boys liked her, there's no questions about that. But there's a large difference between 'like' and 'love'. And I think that everyone should love her.

She's been so strong, put everyone before herself. Been weakened and terrified, and put out on a rope, and still came out stronger then ever. Like a muscle. There's nothing anyone can do to stop her.

And I have my faith, stronger then ever. She will fight until the end of the world to see me again. Just like I would do for her. Just like I'm doing now.

It's something between us, unexplainable, but tangible.

And the only thing I could ever regret now is the possibility of never seeing her again. If I die, then that's it for me. And to never see her again...

I'll never see her swollen belly or be there to lift the heavy things. Or hold her hand when she's in labor. Or wake up beside her, warm and safe. Then stay awake, late into the night, to lull our baby back to sleep.

I'll never even know what it's like to be a father, what it's like to hold such a tiny little life. And if there's anything I regret... It's that.

But it's something I'm more then willing to give up if it means that both of them will live. That's all that matters.

That's the only reason why I'm here still; fighting against Snow, hiding Katniss under me.

Because I have spent all of my life loving her.

And that love is pointless if I don't use it to save her.

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><p>"<em>When Katniss sees you again," Snow says slowly, walking around the desk to stand in front of me, staring up into my eyes, "There won't be much Mockingjay left in you to lead a rebellion. And with your voice silenced, her own will be as well."<em>

The recognition settles in immediately after he says these words. Not only does recognition settle, but fear, and overwhelming terror do too.

I stare him down as he smiles and snaps his fingers, making an odd motion afterwards.

The crack of the butt of a gun against the back of my neck is hardly felt as my legs buckle and my temple slams violently down on the desk before I crumple to the floor and black out.

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><p>I open my eyes what feels like 'immediately' after I'm knocked out, but it's obvious that I've been unconscious for a significant amount of time. My hands reach up immediately and touch the dried blood on the side of my head.<p>

My shaking fingers trace over the thick splotch as it cracks and I try to peel it off, but it breaks away in small flakes of red as thin as tissue paper.

I turn as I see the needle pull from my arm and the doctor stands up. Concerned, afraid, I reach out to stop him when he turns his back to me and leaves the room, "Don't go," I gasp as the fear starts welling up inside of me.

Fields, standing at the door with his hands behind his back, bows his head and walks out as well.

I glance around the room, confused at first, and then I hear Katniss talking.

"I hate that I have to lie to him."

"Katniss?" I ask, unsure, watching the darkness of the room flicker, watching the shadows for any sign of life besides my own. But there isn't any.

"I don't want to lie anymore, Peeta."

The sound of the voice... It can't be but a step or two away, but how do I know that moving won't be the biggest mistake?

Her eyes flash suddenly in front of my fingers and she whispers, "It's so hard to lie to you anymore, Peeta. After you've done everything for me."

"Katniss," I move to touch her but the fear that I've been ignoring swells up over me and I can't stop the panic that speeds my heart in my chest as I stare deep into her eyes, "Katniss, what are you saying?"

"I've been lying about everything," her lips form the words but I have a hard time concentrating on them. They're shining, brightly against the black wall and it's almost like they're trying to blind me.

Her voice murmurs a few words before I finally understand her, "I'm a mutt."

The fear, still mounting up inside, causes me to gasp in response and shudder as her lips come closer.

"You should've already seen this coming, Peeta," Katniss says, her body coming out of the shadows at last, "You should have known that there was no way we could ever be happy. You were you. And I was me. What good is a girl from the Seam?"

I shake my head against her and back away, "What are you saying?"

"We could never be happy together, Peeta." She says these words but I can't help feeling that there's something missing from it.

I look at her, see the unnatural way she's looking at me, and the fear begins to ebb, "Oh Snow," I manage to fit between my tightly closed lips and she tilts her head, "You're an idiot if you think you can confuse me."

Katniss, the fake one in front of me, frowns, "Why aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Because you're pregnant with my child," I argue back, "You can do many things. But you can't fool me. I'm going to be a father, I'm a husband already. And you can't take that away."

"Peeta–"

"Shut up, please," I say as I bury my head into my hands to block her out, "Just shut up."

She's quiet, but I can't help the bother that's inside of me. The feeling of fear at her words had been completely out of my control. What had Snow done to me?_ The needle. _What had he injected me with?

I throw my head back against the wall as I slump to the floor and sit still. The Katniss, whatever she had been, is gone now, and I can finally relax in peace.

And then the lights of the room come on.

Fields walks in through the door and takes me up by my arm, "Please don't struggle, Peeta."

I don't.

I honestly don't even see what the point in struggling would be anymore. Clearly there's no where I can go if I try to escape. I'm inside of the Capitol. I'd obviously get caught. So what would trying to fight back do?

Fields leads me out of the small room and down the hallway. And I really was planning on not holding up a fight, honestly. But I'm tempted when I think of what Snow was trying to do. Trying to convince me that Katniss was... What? Lying to me? A mutt?

And if Fields is talking about the possibility of resisting, doesn't that mean that maybe there _is _a way out?

I glance back quick at his weapon; the standard black Peacekeeper rifle and it's slung across his chest and over his shoulder.

Only giving it a second of thought, I twist my arm free of his slippery, gloved grasp, clamp my palms around the body of the gun, slam it up against his head and shove him onto his stomach on the ground.

He moves to get back up but I hold my hand over his mouth to stop his shouts of protest. He panics and starts to struggle but I wrap my arm around his neck to block the airway.

The hold is only set for a second when someone steps up behind me.

I turn to get a look and Snow stares down at me with wide eyes. And he's _alone_. So I let go of Fields's thrashing body when he goes limp in my arms and jump up to advance on Snow.

He starts to back away, eyes wide in shock, but my arm is grabbed backwards and yanked up towards my shoulder blade before I can move another step.

"I can't take my eyes off of you for a second," Fields breathes against my ear, "Can I?"

"You bastard," I growl and he flexes my arm back again.

Snow smiles and stares into my eyes, "I thought you were smarter then that, Peeta."

"What's a good capture without resistance?" I ask back and Snow nods in agreement, "I already told you," I wince as my arm is pulled a bit higher, "I'm not going to make this easy. And considering you're trying to convince me that my wife's a mutt... Snow, you can't possibly think this is going to work. I've spent too much time with her, done more then enough with her. You can't really believe that I'll start thinking she's a mutt."

His face softens while I'm ranting, for a moment, before he leans over to whisper something into Fields's ear.

"What are you saying to him?" I ask, panic twisting my intestines, "Snow–"

Fields yanks me backwards down the hall in the way we were headed originally and I have to struggle to keep my feet underneath me as he ushers me into another room; different then the last one.

He takes me to the chair in the center of it and sits me down, "Don't you even think about going anywhere this time," he whispers before he leaves.

But he's only gone for a moment, and when he returns with the doctor I remember waking up to the last time, I have a nervous twist in my gut.

Once again, a syringe spills something that has to be just as toxic into my veins and I immediately start to feel heavy, tired, sweaty.

He lets my arms free and the door slams his exit. The sound pierces my sensitive ear and I wince, eyes shut before I open them again and see the images flash on the wall before me.

_They can't honestly think that this will convince me–_

I stop the thought when the Katniss on the screen's eyes flash dangerously. She rushes forward and I shudder, thinking she's coming to me, ready to be slashed into ribbons but the steps stop and I feel a hand touch my cheek.

"Is this convincing enough?" She breathes into my face, "Peeta?"

Even the smell of her breath hits me and I open my eyes to look up at her. The grey eyes, so unnaturally hostile, stare down into me and the flared nose, the hanging bangs. She sneers at me and turns away.

"Katniss?"

_No, no._

_It's still not real. _It's still just whatever they're putting into me.

"Keep convincing yourself that I'm not real," Katniss says as she walks around the room, she moves back to me and begins to take the ties of the chair from my wrist. Then she helps me to my feet.

I back away from her and she rolls her eyes.

Starving, desperately having to pee, and slightly annoyed at this point. I'm afraid, of course, but another side of me just wishes the worst would happen already, so I can get it done faster; and be over it sooner.

"Why are you still trying to love me," the walls around ask suddenly, "When you know the truth now."

Her body gone into the shadows, I take the seat again and wait there, trying to calm my heart, which is beating like a humming bird. This... _Drug_, whatever it is that they keep giving me... _it's messing with everything._

She was convincing enough. _She... there's no way she can have been real. No way_. And just as I'm thinking of her, she's back again.

Katniss starts repeating the same things as before, trying to convince me that she's been lying, that she's a mutt, that I'm an idiot for believing that she'd ever love me.

But I don't listen anymore.

This time, instead, I stand up and walk to her. She stops talking immediately and stares at me in surprise.

_If it's really her, if it really is, then I can kiss her_.

When I try to, though, she backs away from me. I step up and grab her wrists but my hands go through them._ Of course, she isn't real._

I laugh as she fades away and feel my legs give out beneath me.

Panicking, I stare at where she was before, is no longer, and I can't help feeling that I wish she was still here. Because now the entire room is dark. The irony of that doesn't quite escape me. Katniss, being the light.

But as I sit, alone and starving, I take it upon myself to stand and relieve my bladder in the corner of the room. Not my problem.

After that, I'm in the dark alone for so long that I begin to think they've forgotten about me.

Obviously, they haven't. But in time, I take across the room, away from the 'special' corner, and sit with my back against the wall to rest at last.

Sleep takes over within minutes but I'm plagued by the voice of Katniss trying to convince me that she's a mutt.

It's not real, it's not even slightly convincing, I think it's just annoying that Snow would even try.

But her voice said it, and that bothers me the most. Just to hear her say those words... ever.

Where ever she really is, I can only hope that she's safe. If District 12 was really bombed, and she's not there... And Snow doesn't know where she is. It's all I can hope for that she's safe with friends, and getting as far from here as she can.

She'll have our child. She doesn't need me. And I can let myself rest against it if I know that she isn't trying to save me now.

My life is already forfeit. Whatever Snow plans to do with me is more-or-less out of my control.

I find myself clutching now at the things I know she's _really _said, really _meant_, the moments we shared together. Moments that Snow will never taint, no matter how hard he tries.

Moments like her salving up my chest, all burned up from the wall of fire, or the first time we snook into her family's old home to do more then just change.

Or the more realistic things, like when she first started having morning sickness, or tried to have sex with me after Gale died. That's the Katniss I know.

It isn't possible to change her in my head.

* * *

><p>After sitting there for so long, still alone, with the voice of Katniss coming through every now and then, eventually the fear and confusion dissipates.<p>

And whatever has been in my veins seems to fall through at last.

"You're stubborn," the voice from my left says and I look up to see Snow.

He's... Unpleasant as ever, but he's nearly halfway into the room, and I didn't even notice him walk in.

The Peacekeepers at his side walk in more and move to me.

"Food?" Snow asks as they lift me. "Shower?"

I'll humor him for now. Because, honestly, I feel disgusting. And I'm starving.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

*Vanishes to Option C /pant*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	3. Chapter 1 OPTC: Enemy Number One

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Ah, Option C. In case you've forgotten, in this one, Peeta is saved by 13, and Katniss is caught by Snow. Enjoy.

Read on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Question of the Week:<strong>

**-Current Week:** In my original story, you want me to address difficult topics such as_ teen pregnancy and loss of limb_. Name one, or a few, that yer interested in seeing in my story.

**-My Answer to the Last One: **"Like a paper doll." - Prolly a trademark term I picked up from reading Pendragon, where he used it in an odd and incorrect way (soldiers dropping from the roof like little paper dolls)? I use it in the correct way.

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

To save face, how low can you go?

Talk a lot of game, but yet you don't know

Static on the way, make us all say 'whoa'

The people up top push the people down low

Get down and obey every word

Steady getting mine if you haven't yet heard

Wanna take what I got? Don't be absurd

Don't fight the power: Nobody gets hurt

Steel unload, final blow

We, the animals, take control

Hear us now, clear and true,

"Wretches and kings we come for you."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1 - Enemy Number One<strong>

* * *

><p>Gamemaker, we had a deal.<p>

And looking back from here, I think I've misunderstood my role from the beginning.

Because, I don't understand how you can keep us so confused and expect us to persevere. How can we, when everything happens in the dark? I was sure of myself before, but I don't understand what my life is for now. What's my purpose? What is your intent?

After all I've done to keep her alive and to keep us together, you put me here in this situation, and you expect me to know what to do next?

I can't stop or slow down at all because the ground is disappearing too fast underneath my feet. And it won't stop fading away.

Why don't you see how wrong this all is? She's innocent, after all.

And I don't want to think of how he's ruining her.

I'm not that cold.

* * *

><p>I feel, sometimes, like she's completely out of reach. And other times I feel like it's only just that close. Barely a breath apart.<p>

Times like this, I have to go outside and look from there. Access the damage and ability from a third person. One mistake could be her death. And I have to make sure that isn't a possibility, not even considered by Snow.

The first thing I do when I settle down into District Thirteen is request a trip to Twelve. And when Coin objects, I immediately threaten her.

"I already don't like you," I say into her face without a moments thought of hesitation, "If you want me on your side, you should probably let me go and see what damage has been done to the people of Twelve, and assist in any search."

Her eyebrows narrow and she flicks her fingers down on her folded arm like a drum. Impatient, angry, and cornered.

This woman is use to being in power, she doesn't like my position against her at all.

I wouldn't be bothered with it if it didn't mean the entire future of my world and the safety of the woman I loved. Because Katniss is also threatened by Coin.

"Just another Snow waiting to happen," I say.

Coin bares her teeth, "Fine, go and visit Twelve. But you're going without our guard."

"I don't need it," I say, turning my back to leave, "I've lived through Hunger Games, this is just another Arena."

I'm not even needing to say these things, she's feeding her own fire, I'm just adding some gasoline to it; and enjoying the heat from the flames licking high into the sky in front of me.

So I leave her to her silent hating and Haymitch grabs my arm once we're out in the hallway.

"Peeta," he hisses and I look at him with a raised brow, "I... I hope you know what you're doing, kid."

I flash him a sly grin, "Of course. I know exactly what I'm doing. But, in all honesty, I'd like to know if my family, and Katniss's family, are dead or alive. And what about Gale? I don't particularly like the guy, but he means a lot to Katniss."

Haymitch nods at last and walks with me, "I'm going as well."

"No, Haymitch," I start to argue but he takes my arm to stop me again and then gives me a stern look, "Alright. I guess company won't hurt."

* * *

><p>Company doesn't hurt.<p>

Because, when we reach District Twelve, it's obvious that even Haymitch is not enough.

Twelve is ruined, smoke still attempting to settle, but who could miss the crowd of people standing out in the forest before we reached the town.

Haymitch takes us down in the Victor's Village, which is untouched apparently, and we set off together into the forest to meet up with the survivors.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Gale says, holding his body up lazily against a tree, staring at us, "Where did you two come from?"

"Thirteen," I start to explain before Haymitch can say anything, "Apparently there's a big rebellion going on. Care to join us?"

Gale grins wide, "Thought you'd never ask."

"So how many are left?" I question him.

"I've got about nine hundred," He says softly, looking back behind him, "Including Katniss's mother... And Prim. But your family–"

"Wasn't as important," I finish and nod, "I understand." I do, honestly do, but it doesn't stop it from hurting.

Gale's look falters for a moment and then he stands up straight, "What are we doing?"

I turn back to Haymitch, "You go and tell Coin that there are nearly or at least nine hundred survivors. I'll talk to them here."

He doesn't argue, he just turns back and walks towards the Victor's Village again.

Gale makes a sort of snicker sound and I raise a brow at him, "So, where's Katniss?"

I shake my head, "Do you honestly think that the Capitol wasn't going to go after her first after what she did?" I ask sarcastically, "She's caught by Snow."

Gale's eyes widen and he starts walking with me further into the forest, "That must bother you."

"It does," I agree, "It bothers me a whole hell of a lot. But I'm not going to rest until she's back in my arms again. Coin be damned."

"Coin?" Gale asks.

"The Snow of District Thirteen," I explain, "Only, I think she's more of a threat then Snow is, honestly. She feels... Wrong."

Gale grabs my arm, "Wait a second," he says, sounding panicked, "You can't possibly mean that you want me to take my people into Thirteen with a possible threat for a leader."

"They're my people too," I say, taking my arm from his, "And you should probably be careful with the way you word things. I might start to think that you're being territorial as well, and we don't need a _third _Snow."

Gale gasps and puts his hands in his pockets as we continue again, "Sorry," he says at last.

"For what?"

"For acting like an Alpha male," he explains, "It's mostly because I don't like you, but that's not in your control... I'm glad you came for us."

"You should be. It was my idea."

"Care to give me a brief sum up?" Gale offers.

I shrug, it's not worth it to argue with him, the best thing I can do is try to make friends, or at least acquaintances, "They took me to Thirteen, where everyone dresses the same, and you have to go on a schedule, and a certain diet, and everything's controlled. It's really the only choice, but it sucks for a choice. The best we can do is accept, and that way we live. But we'll be sitting on the top of an enemy similar to the one we're wanting to defeat. She power struggled with me when I set my feet down, and then she power struggled with me when I wanted to come here."

"The enemy of your enemy is typically an ally of yours."

I roll my eyes, "That's what she said. A simple, coy remark meant to make you overlook who you're joining sides with."

Gale shrugs, "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is," I say, "I'm not falling for it. And I want Katniss safe."

"So what are we going to do?"

"We?"

Gale stops and stares at me, "Are you kidding? I love Katniss just as much as you do, if not more. I'd kill for her, Peeta–"

"Yeah?" I ask, "Well there's a difference between saying it and doing it. And seeing as I've actually done it, I can say 'I've killed for her'. Can you?"

He falters, eyebrows narrowing and looking away, "Of course I can't. But that's hardly my fault. I haven't gotten the opportunity before, have I?"

"Maybe you should've applied for more tesserae."

Gale moves forward and grabs me up by the collar of my shirt, "Look, I'm offering you company and alliance here. Do you want it or not?"

He stares so deep into my eyes, so close, that I can smell his sweat.

I wait, feel his hands squeeze the collar in anticipation and then I lean in, "I want it," I breathe into his face and he lets me go.

"Alright then," he says at last, brushing his hands on the pants he's wearing.

I straighten up my ruffled collar and join him on the rest of the walk through the forest. He's quiet, hardly even there, like a ghost. _Just like Katniss._

We reach this large mass of people in the forest and the first thing that happens is Prim. She comes running through the people and jumps into my arms. Just as tall as Katniss, I wrap my arms around her small waist and lift her up into a bear hug.

"Peeta!" She's gasping happily and I think she's crying.

"Hey Little Duck," I can't help smiling and feeling a sense of complete satisfaction, knowing that she's alive and safe.

When I look up again, I feel a hand on my arm and then I take up Katniss's mother in a hug as well.

Gale, from our side, watches in annoyance before looking away.

I pull out of the hug and look down at the two women, "How are you guys?"

Prim smiles wide, "Glad to see you, we were so worried."

"You were worried?" I joke, brushing a tear from her cheek, "You have no right. I had to hear about Twelve getting bombed."

"Where are we going?" Katniss's mother asks.

I back up and look at them, "We're taking you to Thirteen. It's safe there, from the Capitol, and I can't imagine them not wanting the company."

The mass of people crowding around us seem satisfied with this answer. But it has me nothing but worried.

I can feel my stomach twisting nervously.

If Coin wasn't upset about my demands before, how will she feel when I bring in nine hundred of my own people? She'll see them as my weapons, my power struggle against her. In order to counter this, I have to do the only thing there is left.

I have to extend an olive branch.

* * *

><p>With the leftovers of District Twelve settling in, I send in a request to talk with Coin nearly at once. In less then minutes, it's denied.<p>

I eat at the table in the lunch room on my own, barely tucking into the bread, before Gale takes a seat across from me. I look up and raise a brow, "Do you want something?"

Gale glares, staring at me while he picks up his own bread, "This place is like a prison."

"Or a graveyard," I comment.

Gale holds out his wrist and shows me this cuff thing on it, "It's some kind of status here. I think Coin is hoping that... I hate you more then I do."

His comment raises my brow just as it relaxes, "She's already trying to latch into my enemies."

He nods.

_So much for an olive branch._

"That's..." I stand up and move to leave the lunch room but Gale stops me.

"Where are you going?" He asks, "What are you going to do, Peeta?" He's concerned, but he doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does.

"I'm getting out of here," I explain, "I need some air."

When I try to leave the lunchroom, I'm stopped though, because of the food on my tray.

The Peacekeeper, holding his hands out to me, watches close at my actions as he says, "All food must be eaten here in the Lunch room only, you can't take it with you."

I look down at the tray in my hands as Gale walks up to join me.

"We have to eat here?" He asks.

But I can't hear anything else. Alarms are going off in my head and I get the immediate feeling of fear. Memories of doors locking in the night and being lead around like a doll on a string.

The next thing I know, I'm slamming the food, the grits and greasy sausage, into the Peacekeeper's face, tray and all.

I leave the lunch area at a sprint, someone behind me and when I turn back, I see Gale. Not pursuing, but following. It settles me for only a moment and we reach the exit.

The Peacekeepers at the door attempt to stop me as well, but I tackle one down, grabbing the gun from his hands and slamming it against his helmet, he stops struggling and I stand up as Gale knocks out the second one.

Peacekeepers start filling the room, but I'm still fighting against them, struggling and kicking against the bodies until Coin's voice stops everyone.

Gale, heaving with breath, face red and angered beyond imagination, glares a death look at Coin as she walks forward.

"Peeta Mellark," Coin says, smiling wide, "What are you doing?"

"I want out," I explain.

Coin frowns, "What ever do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Coin," I explain, "I want outside. I want to be outside. We're not your prisoners and you can't treat us like we are."

"You're our guests," She tries to explain.

"Guests are allowed to eat their food wherever they want. Guests are allowed to go outside."

"Peeta," she argues, "Don't you think you're acting... like a _child_?"

"No," I argue back, struggling against the Peacekeepers that are holding me against my will, "I think I'm acting human. I think I'm acting reasonable, considering that we had more freedom back in District Twelve when it was under control by the Capitol."

Almost immediately, I feel a stutter from one of the Peacekeepers, the one on my right arm, he lessens his hold.

Coin leers, glaring daggers at me, "We do what we have to do."

"'Have to do', or 'want to do'?" I ask, "What are you trying to do here, Coin? You can't even try to convince me that you should be the one leading Panem. What kind of joke is that, honestly? One you think I'd fall for?"

"Leaders must have control and order," Coin says softly, coldly, "Most leaders are outrageous thinkers."

"I'll agree with that," I say, "But that doesn't mean that they're acts are unreasonable. And you're control here, it's unreasonable. You're a spider, threading a web."

A second Peacekeeper lessens, the one across my torso, and I see that the ones holding Gale do it as well.

"We're people, Coin," I explain, "Not animals to be herded around. We need a sense of freedom, or we don't work right. And I'm not going to work with you until I feel like you're not going to take me down the second that Snow is out of the picture. You'll kill me, and you'll kill Katniss. You'd kill her, after everything she stands for?"

Coin's eyes flash and before she says anything, I drop the bomb.

"Ah," I say, my eyes widening in a fake, yet convincing shock, "That's what you **want**. You're going to make a martyr out of her. And use her death as your fuel to lead the rebuilding of Panem, so that you can take over. So we'll be dead before we even get to Snow, then."

Gale stares at me in shock and surprise, quiet, but I can feel his growing impatience. Good thing he knows not to say something stupid.

"You're a child," Coin argues, "You don't understand anything and you're making foolish assumptions."

"No," I say softly, staring at her, "I think the only assumption I have is what's really going on. I'm a pretty good judge of character. I may be a bit paranoid, but I'm not mind-washed enough yet, like your current people have been for years now, I'm sure. I'm not in your fan base. And I don't believe a word you say."

Her face flares so much that the Peacekeepers tighten their hold again.

I have to get them on my side more if this is going to get anywhere. Men don't just make snap decisions because a pretty boy that was on televisions all over Panem says so.

"Let me remind you," I say, "Or rebuff your memory. This rebellion, this war, is for freedom. It's for not being a slave to them anymore, stopping the Hunger Games, and being able to live our lives as we wish. And here in Thirteen, you've merely created the current Panem replica. Pawns, these people are your pawns. And you think you're the queen of them."

As I talk, I slowly relax all of my muscles, and the Peacekeeper's holding me relax as well.

"Stop talking, you idiot," she starts to say more, but if there's a moment I could hesitate, I don't during this one.

I drop my left arm and slip the dagger from the Peacekeeper's belt behind me, and then I slash up as fast as I can. The blade slides over her throat and blood sprays out, dotting my face and clothes.

She's struggling until she's on the floor and the Peacekeepers around don't know what to do.

Some of them start to raise their guns, but others do back at them. Half guarding, half protecting.

Blood pours out from the body as Coin dies, and no one's made a single move to save her.

Gale's gasped in shock and staring.

If there's one thing I've proven, it's that I kill for Katniss.

Hopefully this move hasn't killed me at last.

Even if it has, I won't regret it.

I promised that I'd get rid of things that threaten Katniss, with my life. And this was the biggest. Cato, Coin. You're next, Snow, if I live to see it.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Yes, that just happened.

It's pretty much my werd that whatever I write is what happens, I don't change things.

And this is all Lady Gaga's fault. I was kinda listening to remixes of Bad Romance, and then Peeta killed Coin. ^^;

*Vanishes to Option D*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	4. Chapter 1 OPTD: Much As I Want

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option D<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Ah, geebus, four friggin posts. Hope that gives you all enough to enjoy.

Thank you lot fer reading, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Question of the Week:<strong>

**-Current Week:** In my original story, you want me to address difficult topics such as_ teen pregnancy and loss of limb_. Name one, or a few, that yer interested in seeing in my story.

**-My Answer to the Last One: **"Like a paper doll." - Prolly a trademark term I picked up from reading Pendragon, where he used it in an odd and incorrect way (soldiers dropping from the roof like little paper dolls)? I use it in the correct way.

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

When you're close to me

I can feel you heart beat

I can hear you breathing in my ear

When I kiss your lips

Ooh, I start to shiver

Can't control the quivering inside

When I'm in your arms

Nothing seems to matter

My whole world can shatter

I don't care

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1 - Much As I Want<strong>

* * *

><p>To rebel.<p>

To hold the power in my hands.

It's both a feeling that I don't know, and do, very well. Maybe better than I wish to.

This is what the 'boy that gave her bread' was born to do. To be the voice in the rebellion, to say the words that would lead millions of people through hard times and struggle, for freedom.

To start a war. And end suffering.

Did I know that admitting my love, of Katniss Everdeen, to everyone alive would be the straw that broke the camel's back?

Can love really, truly be such a strong thing?

Known to guide the lost through storm and rain. To reignite the flame of a candle under water.

To bring on Armageddon and split the world apart.

To split families and friends apart. To break hearts. To cause more pain then any physical wound or damage caused to the human body.

And it's the only thing I had going for me. Such a tiny, simple thing, love.

Just a boy, barely a man. Physically built enough to stand in a fight. Able to weave words and sway crowds. A soon to be father, and I like to think I'm a good husband.

But still... Just a boy.

* * *

><p>All I can hear, all I can ever hear is her talking.<p>

She's constantly at my side, yet I haven't said a thing to her in days. Days. It's the longest since the first games, and I hate not being able to.

_This must be what a coma feels like,_ I think,_ and it's getting old. _I want more then anything to squeeze the hand that holds mine like a lifeline, I want to let her know that I appreciate her attention, but I can't.

I have no control over my body, but I can feel the pain. I can feel everything that touches my skin, the blanket over me, the bed under me, the needles in me. I can hear everything as well. Doctors, nurses, Haymitch talking to Katniss.

Katniss doesn't leave my side, ever. It's comforting, yes, but I wish she wouldn't torture herself. _At least I'm alive._

And that's the most ironic thought of them all. Because, I'm alive and I can't do anything, I might as well be dead. I'm nearly a vegetable.

_At least I protected her, that was well worth it. At least she's still alive._

_I would've killed them if she wasn't._

That may not have helped anyone, but that's what I would've done, I'm sure of it.

Katniss takes her hand from mine to eat and it's back there just as fast. She's wolfed it down and sips on the drink, as usual. She can't stand having her hand from mine.

The first time they forced her to let go, so they could turn me out, she flipped and screamed the nurse from the room.

When they took her out and put her under a still shot, she stopped making a big deal about letting go of my hand. But it didn't stop her from staying at it for as long as she could.

Every time I wake up from sleep, she's talking to me, every time I pass out into sleep, she's talking to me. I'm not entirely sure how much sleep she gets, but I gather from the doctors that it isn't enough.

I remember everything she says, about the baby, about the scans they've done on her. About Prim and her mother. About my family.

My family, gone, like a light out. It's upsetting, but not nearly as upsetting as the rest.

Everyone is gone from District Twelve being bombed. Everyone. Except Prim and Katniss's mother.

The Victor's Village wasn't bombed.

Whether we could've saved anyone or not, no one can possibly tell. But they swooped in and grabbed Katniss's family just as soon as the bombing was done. Not us, not Thirteen. But Snow. And he's been parading them on television all over Panem since.

He took them. And Katniss is worried.

And I would give the world, just to be able to hold her, to help her. It hurts more then anything to lay as still as a board while she cries by my side, sobbing for the sister she's struggled so hard to protect and take care of.

It breaks my heart every time I try to console her.

That's my job, I should be able to do that. She needs me now more then ever, and I just keep lying here.

* * *

><p>It's about a week of being in this state until I actually wake up from the coma, and I'm aware of everything. It isn't like waking up from sleep like I expected. It's just the same as... Opening your eyes after resting them for a minute.<p>

Katniss is startled to her feet when I do and she stares down at me when I grip her hand tight in mine at last.

And then I say the words I've been dying to say for days, "I love you."

I turn my head to look at her better and she smiles wide. I smile back, breath is sharp in my chest, but I ignore it. "I missed touching you so much, Katniss."

She laughs and leans down to press her forehead to mine, "Me too."

Despite the pain in my chest, I suffer through it, lifting my left arm to reach over to my right side and brush the bangs from her face, "I could hear you."

"Could you?" She whispers, "Could you hear everything?"

"I could," I say softly, voice rasped and barely understandable, "I could hear you so well. I could feel you're touch. You were right beside me the entire time. But I've never felt so far from you, never."

Katniss pulls her forehead from mine and kisses me. It's soft, sweet, and it speeds my heart up. The monitor connected to me beeps it and I feel my excitement at the tips of my fingers, down to the very ends of my toes.

I open my mouth, lean my head up, and grab her lips down further.

Her hand caresses my cheek and she's fingering the bangs near my left ear.

When I break the kiss, I take a breath and kiss her once again, short and lingering, "Get me out of this bed."

* * *

><p>I'm not really allowed to walk, and when I refuse to have a room that isn't with Katniss, the people of District Thirteen give me disappointing sighs.<p>

The doctor raises a brow before saying: "In your condition, I don't think you should be partaking in intercourse."

"Did I say anything about sex?" I ask, face flushing, "She's my wife, and she's pregnant. It's my job to take care of her. And either we're in the same room, or I'm going to end up filled with bullets again for staying in her room despite rules and regulations."

Katniss squeezes my hand under the table and Coin nods at last.

"Alright, you are to be in the same room, but I don't want either of you partaking in sexual–"

"Stuff it," I say, standing and pulling Katniss up as well.

We leave the meeting with our bedroom information and Katniss gives me a look.

"What?" I ask, grinning.

"I don't want you doing anything too straining either, Peeta," she says sternly.

I chuckle softly, lacing my fingers with hers, "I didn't plan to get up from a medical bed after a coma and take you to my room to work out my sexual frustrations and lack of touch for the past week. Not immediately, at least."

"You didn't see you get shot," she says gently, "I did."

"Oh?" I ask, "How did I look?"

Katniss's eyes move down to stare at the floor, "Well, each time you got hit, you jerked back and sort of pushed against me, but I was mostly afraid for you. And... And then you fell to one knee and that's when one hit you in the shoulder and you fell against me and passed out."

"Katniss–"

"I've never seen anything so terrifying in my whole life, and that's saying something."

"It is," I agree.

We reach our room, walk in, and she's in my arms the second the door is closed. Her own, tightly wrapped around me as she starts sobbing.

"You-you were so fast, Peeta," she says, her body shuddering violently against the emotions trying to come out, "You were so fast, I didn't even know... I just... And I couldn't do anything. Your hand was so tight around my wrist."

I run my hand through her hair and kiss her head. I do remember latching on, just barely.

Katniss finally pulls away and looks up at me, "You are..."

I raise a brow as she pauses.

"You're just..." She laughs, but stops when the chuckle chokes on her sobs and she says: "I'd say stupid, but it wasn't stupid at all." And then she starts crying again.

She moves to hug me, to hide her face, but her head hits my chest in a particularly sensitive spot and I'm gasping for breath.

My fingers reach up to touch it and she stops as well, her hand covering mine.

"I'm sorry," she laughs sadly, "I should be more careful."

"No," I breathe, "I'm fine–"

I stop when her hands finger the bottom of my shirt. She unbuttons it slowly, moving up until the top one connected to the collar is undone.

Her gray eyes, staring into mine, more dry then before, and she leans up to kiss me when she pushes the shirt off of my shoulders.

I feel it fall to the floor behind me and then I place my hands on her waist to pull our bodies together.

After all that we've been through, we're not even done yet, and I'm a man that's already in so many pieces. And that's not even mentally. I was a real **person **before the games started. It's only a thought of how horrible things have become, when I'm no longer concerned about scars.

I've killed people. I've gotten more severe burns then I ever had in the bakery, I lost my leg, I almost lost my other leg. I've been beaten down, until blood comes from my mouth. And now...

"_Eight bullets," the doctor had said, "You're very lucky we had you in here the second it happened. You could be dead."_

Eight bullets. And before the Games, I'd never seen a gun shot.

Katniss's fingers lightly touch the one on my right shoulder. It's an ugly scar starting.

"I'd kiss it," she jokes, "But, chance infection?"

I laugh at first but it rocks the stitches on my waist, so I stop.

She reaches forward to pull my hand from the wounds and touches it softly with her own.

Three of the bullets had hit similar spots, nearly spilling my intestines all over District Thirteen. _That would've been a way to see your husband die, wouldn't it have?_

Katniss looks up with wide eyes, "No, it wouldn't have."

_I said that out loud._ My face flushes red and I reach up to touch her cheek, "What would you have done?"

She shakes her head, "I don't even know. Died?" She asks, "Tried to kill Coin... I don't want to know. I'm glad I didn't have to find out."

"Me neither," I agree, "But it was worth it. If I hadn't gotten in the way, and they shot you–"

I go silent and she looks concerned, "What?"

I shake my head, "I thought about it, while it was happening, after it happened. While I was in a coma. I thought about what would've happened, if I had just been a couple of seconds slower."

"And?" She asks.

I keep shaking my head before moving back to sit on our new bed, "I know what I would've done."

Katniss walks up to me and takes my hand, "Peeta–"

"I'm not always a good person," I say softly, "I've killed people, Katniss. I'm a murderer."

"That's not your fault," she argues.

"Maybe not," I agree, "But I'm capable to kill, I know that now. I would've never dreamed I could. Cato didn't even stand a chance. He hesitated to kill me. But I didn't even think twice. I knew from the beginning that I was going to kill him."

Her hand squeezes mine, "He deserved it."

"Did his family?" I ask, "And Brutus? Enobaria? What about them? And there's at least one I don't even know the name of. And I might still kill Coin. I won't hesitate. And if they'd hurt you out there, Katniss... I would've killed them."

She stares me in the eyes and she doesn't look afraid.

"You love me, I know you do," I look down at my hands, "But I'm... I'm afraid of myself sometimes. That I can do something so horrible. Even if it _is _for you. I don't know if love like that is right."

Katniss grabs my face and forces me to look at her, "Have you been thinking about all of this? While you were in your coma?"

"I've thought of it a lot," I explain, "All of the time. But yeah, I had plenty of time to think about it while lying in that bed."

"You're a good person, Peeta," she says, stroking my temple and cheek, "You're a good man. And you love me. And that love, it's **love**. Love is never reasonable. And it's not right or wrong. You can't figure it out. What you've done was necessary. You protected us, and me. And you would've protected us if they'd shot me first. Is that wrong?"

I start to answer when she covers my mouth with her hand.

"It's not wrong."

She stares at me and smiles, tears slipping down her cheeks, "You do what you have to do. And if you didn't, I would've been raped. We would've been killed. Is that something you regret never happening?"

I shake my head.

"You've never killed a helpless person, like Rue. Or cut out someone's tongue. Or whipped a man until he died of blood loss," she says, still staring at me, "You've never put twenty-four kids in an arena and given them no choice but to kill each other."

I hate to justify myself, but she has a point.

"And you didn't come out spotless," she says, "Did you? You've put your own body in harms way. You've suffered for it."

She grazes her fingers down to my leg and touches the artificial one. I'm about to point out it's the wrong one when she smiles.

"I love this," she says, "I didn't like the idea, at first. But you got this by protecting me. And I love it. And the other leg probably has a scar on it too, from Johanna. And I love that just as much." She stands up and pushes me down onto my back.

I stare up, holding myself on elbows to watch her climb onto my lap.

"These," she says, her fingers tracing the stitched up bullet holes, "They'll be scars too. And once they're healed, I'll kiss them everyday."

My hands find their way to her waist as she leans low to press her lips to mine.

"They're all beautiful," she whispers, kissing my chin, up my jaw, down my neck, "Whether they remind me of what you've been through, or what you'll do for me, I love them. I want to see them."

She moves down to kiss around the wounds, to kiss down my stomach, and starts unbuttoning my pants.

When she pulls them off, boxers included, I'll admit I'm slightly concerned.

I'd be up for sex anytime, but just laying here hurts.

"Katniss," I say, starting to sit up when her eyes meet mine, "What are you doing, exactly?"

Smiling, rubbing her hands up both of my legs, even though I can only feel it in one, she says: "Taking care of you."

And I can't quite disagree that she does, as one hand runs up my waist and the fingers weave into mine, as her other hand grips my hip and she lowers her mouth over me. I can't even think to disagree.

I wanted to be taking care of her, after I woke up, but... I think I'll just lay here, and not complain.

At least now I can hold her hand as much as I want.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Uh, yeah, hope you all aren't upset that I didn't go into detail, I'm sure you know what happens.

If you want to tho, I can write it. It's in my capabilities. I just wasn't sure if you wanted to read that. XP

Enjoy fer now! See you all soon!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	5. Chapter 2 OPTA: Starving

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Expect Option B on Tuesday. Infermation concerning C and D, which **are **continuing, will be in Tuesday's A/N.

Sorry fer the hold up, this past week has been a hot mess. Family Drama, my youngest sister coming over to watch Star Trek, finishing off Dexter with TristAn. It's just been all OVER the place; like me.

So yeah, finished all 5 seasons of Dexter, now waiting eagerly fer Season 6. My gosh, what an amazing series. He has about the best personality ever.

Other then that, I been werking on my book trilogy. A lot. /blush and on the story you all helped me start. That's under werks. Been trying to get around to writing all of this but time is really straining right now, even tho I don't have werk. ^^;

I refuse to quit you all tho.

The story must go on, so go ahead, read and enjoy, answer the question of the week, review, you know, ususal stuffs.

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Question of the Week:<strong>

**-Current Week:** Same as last time; In my original story, you want me to address difficult topics such as teen pregnancy and loss of limb. Name one, or a few, that yer interested in seeing in my story.

**-My Answer to the Last One: **"Like a paper doll." - Prolly a trademark term I picked up from reading Pendragon, where he used it in an odd and incorrect way (soldiers dropping from the roof like little paper dolls)? I use it in the correct way.

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Where once was light,

Now darkness falls.

Where once was love,

Love is, no more.

Don't say: "Goodbye."

Don't say: "I didn't try..."

These tears we cry are falling rain.

For all the lies you told us,

The hurt, the blame.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Starving<strong>

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><p>The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I'm sobbing so hard that my chest is reeling, fingers clutching at my shirt and Katniss isn't there anymore.<p>

Nothing's there.

I drop to my knees and kick myself backwards against the ground until I'm curled in a corner. Alone.

And Katniss doesn't come back.

* * *

><p>I try to sleep, but I can't imagine the nightmares I'd have, so I startle myself awake when I get even remotely close to drifting.<p>

It seems like hours before the door opens again, and when it does, I'm hoisted up and dragged from the room. Despite the inactivity for such a long time, I'm completely exhausted.

My muscles scream in pain against the Peacekeepers and finally I'm laid down in a soft, plush bed.

My body sinks into it and I'm unaware of how quickly I fall asleep.

Dreams haunt me until the morning, dreams about Katniss being a mutt, and her lying to me. And me calling her horrible names.

It goes on and on until I'm finally unable to sleep at all.

I get up from the painfully comfortable bed and walk into the bathroom to shower.

Nearly sleeping through that, I walk out into my room again, and the clothing set on the bed startles me to know that they must be watching me.

I look around before putting them on, leave the room, and I'm immediately grabbed by a Peacekeeper.

"Don't fight back, just walk."

I do. I walk on forward until I'm in a dining room of sorts and seated down at a table.

It's hard to even look at the food without being sick, because in my mind I still feel like I'm in that room, listening to Katniss.

I don't want to think so horribly about it, but I can't help feeling like she should apologize.

After asking for the cease-fire in the interview, I honestly thought they'd just leave me in a room alone like they were doing before, but naturally that would be too simple.

Wanting answers instead, answers that I don't even have. Sitting there in the chair with Caesar Flickerman, just a few days ago, I think, had been terrifying. Asking for a cease-fire, but that's all I could do.

I was so panicked, lashing out, trying to defend Katniss, trying to make her look innocent. I'm still sure she's innocent. She... she has to be.

And I thought that I would just be taken care of, like they did before, making me sit in my room, prepping me like a doll as usual. I hated it, I'll be honest. I wanted to be tortured, or beaten down, that's what happens to captives.

The kindness was overwhelming at first. But now I can see that they aren't who I think they are. They can be ruthless and harsh. The worst, however, is that they don't just torture me. What they're doing is wrong... Trying to change my thoughts, confusing me.

I still can't figure out if it's just to let me think that Katniss is a mutt, or to inform me that, yes, Katniss is really a mutt.

And I've been a fool this entire time.

Making any agreement with Snow was a mistake. The cease-fire, of course he wouldn't just leave me alone in my sorrow afterwards. He got what he wanted from me. He didn't have to hold his end of the agreement, he didn't have to leave me alone.

And he doesn't have to leave Katniss alone, either.

I'm so disturbed with this thought that I finally jar myself into moving by picking up my fork and filling my mouth with baked chicken. The taste of it immediately makes my mouth water and my stomach to growl in protest.

Inevitably, I eat until I'm completely full and excused from the table.

The room I'm led to is the one I've been in plenty of times before, I take to the shower, wash and dress in pajamas before settling down in the bed.

I hate the most that I settle into sleep so quickly. Because after what I've been through, it should be hard to sleep. But I'm so exhausted again, so full for once, so comfortable, that I pass out nearly the moment my head hits the pillow.

* * *

><p>I wake up in the morning, alone in my bed, startled from another Katniss Mutt dream, and I know that they're just dreams, but that doesn't stop them from bothering me.<p>

I can feel them causing fear and uncertainty straight down into the marrow of my bones, into every memory I've had with her, and that worries me. Whatever they're doing, it's something I can't stop. I can't help being... uncertain of her.

I'm up, dressed, and out of the door before I take even another moment to decide on what's happening today.

Surely they don't expect me to just sit back and relax while this war rages on.

Breakfast passes in silence and the Peacekeepers take me up once I'm finished. Their hands grip my elbows as they lead me into one of those black rooms from before.

I'm panicking, afraid of what's going to happen, no, afraid of what she'll say. And the needle pierces into my skin, plunger pushed down, and back out before I've had time to stop it.

_What's it going to do this time?_

"You!" I hear my own voice shouting, "Stay away from me!"

My screams echo in my ears, my sobs, pain shoots up my spine. Horror chills through my bones and a draft of the aloneness fills me as I listen to myself, screaming, sobbing, yelling in pain and fear.

"You bitch!" I'm shouting, "Stay away from me, Katniss."

I want to stop him from saying these things, I try. But I can't find him, I can't stop him from being afraid.

"I've been manipulating you," Katniss whispers in my ear, "I've been hurting you."

"Katniss," the name comes out of my mouth like a sob, and I sound just like him.

"You tell everyone that you love me, truly love me. 'For a long, long time,' you said. And you promised me that you weren't making it up. But here you are, and you've already given up."

I look around, but the room is black, and I feel the chill of fear course through me at her words.

"It's for nothing. What was the point in ever admitting it at all? What was the point in loving me in the first place?"

"Katniss," I whisper, "I'm fighting for you now. I-I haven't given up."

"You didn't plan to go through with it."

"I did–do," I correct myself, "I do still plan to go through with it. There's no question about it. Katniss–"

"You're an idiot, sometimes, Peeta," she says, sounding tired, "You're still willing to sacrifice your life for me, after everything I've done. I almost feel sorry for you."

The pain at her words. It wouldn't hurt so much if it didn't hold just the tiniest amount of truth. That I've possibly overlooked something. That I've overlooked her. That I trusted too easily. It may be Snow, but it may be right.

And if it's right, then I've been an idiot all along.

"I wanted you dead," she whispers, "I've always been out for myself alone. And the act I played, to cover it up, you didn't even stop to think about it, did you? You never paused and wondered why I pretended to love you? If I'd had it my way, you would've eaten the berries first, that was what I wanted."

"No–"

"Stop lying to yourself and just accept it."

"No!" I throw myself backwards into the wall to get away from her as she hisses out things to me. Lies about the... or is it really truths? I don't know anymore.

_I don't know anything at all._

And she keeps whispering to me, she keeps changing, the things she's done before keep changing. I can see how she avoids me, how she acts different around me in the cave then I remember.

Could it be that I was just seeing what I wanted to see?

Could it be that all along she wasn't who I thought she was? Was she really just playing me? And even if she was, so what.

_It doesn't change a thing._

It was my fault, for being stupid and falling for it._ I still... I still love her._

This thought eases the pain, and even though Katniss is still talking, I can concentrate now. I can sleep now.

* * *

><p>When I'm woken, it's by the door opening and the light filling the room.<p>

Fields, the Peacekeeper that's been bothering me since I got here, stands at it and stares at me.

"Interview time," he says, making a motion to me.

I lift myself from the corner and follow him back to my old bedroom where I shower and the prep team takes me in to brush me up and mask away the horror that's showing on my face.

I'm, however, immediately brought into Portia's arms and she squeezes me so tight that I don't think I can breathe.

I grab her up, despite the pain, and nearly lift her completely from the floor as I hug her back.

Her hand, fingers and nails, run through my hair.

It's relieving to see her. Though I'd seen her in the last interview, the comfort now is overwhelming.

"You're thinner," she whispers softly, "Are you alright?"

I pull away, shaking my head, and stare down into her eyes, "Of course I'm not alright."

She nods, "Are you sane still?"

"Hardly," I smile back and squeeze her hands, "How are you all?"

The prep team, Miggy, Prudence, and Yessenia stare at me with wide eyes.

Yessenia surprises me when she speaks first, "We're alright. Why would anything be wrong with us?"

"I know about Senna," I say then and they all bow their heads, "I don't want to see that happen to you all. I don't think I could bare it."

Portia straightens the collar of my shirt and smiles sadly as her eyes water and her lip quivers, "Don't worry about us, Peeta."

I take a breath and wipe the single tear streaming down her cheek away, "I can't help it."

Together, taking their time, talking and trying to enjoy their selves, the prep team gets me covered in makeup and considerably dolled.

In the mirror, I can still see the damage over my face, and it startles me to think it's so bad it can't be covered.

Portia runs her hand over the back of my shoulder span and folds up the sleeves of my shirt to my elbow, "They always look best like this," she says, smiling.

But I look back at her and I can see that she's still trying hard not to cry.

"Portia–"

"I'm alright," she says sternly, staring at me, "I'm fine, don't worry about me, Peeta." Then she moves around to the other side to fold up that sleeve.

I nod and then she releases me to the interview room.

Caesar greets me, holding my hand firmly in his and staring at me before we take our seats and the interview starts.

I try too control the shaking in my arms, gripping the sides of the chair before settling them in my lap as Caesar introduces himself.

"Hello, Peeta," he starts off finally, turning to me and smiling sadly, "It's been a few days."

And I was under the impression that it had been longer then that, but I straighten up and nod, "It has."

"How have you been holding up?" He asks.

"Good, considering," I throw a nearly painful smile out and he nods, "The best I can, I guess."

Caesar bows his head before asking: "What do you think of these rumors that Katniss is making these propos for the districts? Surely you've seen the footage."

"I've only seen a few," I respond honestly, "I don't know if there's more then that, but I don't need to. It's clear enough. They're using her," I explain, "obviously, to whip up the rebels."

Caesar raises his brow and I continue on.

"I doubt she even really knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake."

"Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" He asks.

"There is," I say, turning to the camera and staring through it. I hope, more than anything, that she's watching this.

"Don't be a fool, Katniss," I speak clearly, as if talking directly to her, "Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't…find out."

The light on the front of the camera goes out and Peacekeeper Fields moves to me and smiles wryly.

"I think that's more then enough."

"I've hardly said a thing," I start and he makes that motion with his head again.

He takes me up and I have hardly enough time to glance at Caesar before I'm led out of the interview room.

But they don't put me in that black one again. They don't put me back with Katniss.

I'm left to my original one, locked from the outside, stuck staring around it. There's fresh food on a cart at the foot of the bed and I take to it, eat, and then shower.

Still, no one's come inside, so I lay down in bed to sleep.

This could be worse then that black room. This could be much worse.

Mostly because I know I'll go back there again soon, or something worse could happen. And also because I want to be comforted with the food, the shower, and the soft bed, but I know it's here just to weaken me.

And because I'm oblivious to the world outside. I don't know what's happening. And this leaves me to imagine my own worst fears.

Katniss is out there somewhere. _She could be in danger for all I know. _And even though she may have been lying to me about everything we've been through together, that doesn't change a thing at all.

I would still die for her. I might just have that chance soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

If there are any typos or inconsistencies, it's TristAn's fault, he kept talking to me while I was trying to edit.

Do review, and answer the Question of the Week, whether in pm or twitter, or in the review, it all werks. E

See you all Tuesday!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	6. Chapter 2 OPTB: Seeing Red

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

As promised, the much waited fer Option B is here. ^^

So, here's what's most likely going to happen from here on out, updates every three days. So Option C on Friday, and D on Monday. So on and so forth. Some might come in sooner, maybe two at a time, but more or less you can expect them to be up every three days at the most. Let's hope this werks.

I'm currently werking on new skin fer my website, and some stuff will be going up there, but I refuse to explain more, until you all can actually SEE it.

Other then that, I been playing Team Fortress 2, bought it a while back before it was free to play. But I've been testing the waters now. Also been watching QaF, and a few movies. Not rly dedicated to anything particularly yet. But TristAn and I plan to start watching Six Feet Under, since it has Michael C Hall. XP

Thank many of you fer staying avid, coming back fer more, like me. I love you all, please read on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi! Enjoy.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

My hands are searching for you.

My arms are outstretched towards you.

I feel you on my fingertips.

My tongue dances behind my lips, for you.

This fire rising through my being, burning.

I'm not used to seeing you.

I'm alive, I'm alive

I can feel you all around me,

Thickening the air I'm breathing.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Seeing Red<strong>

* * *

><p><em>It's awful when you want food to taste bad.<em>

And it's something I can't help doing while I eat; wanting it to taste bad. Each bite I take, I can't help but enjoy it, the water filling my mouth at the smell, the texture. No one should ever have to miss food.

In the Arena, with Katniss, food was always fresh, and at home in the Bakery. Though the bread wasn't the best, it was still food. It was something I'd never been without.

I can't help thinking that Katniss has felt worse in her life, more hungry then I ever have, even now. She's been more hungry then this.

_If we both get out of this alive, I'll make it so that she never wants for food again._

Snow, sitting in front of me, eating like everything is made of glass, repeatedly wiping his mouth and chin, his cold eyes watching me, even though he smiles wide like he's enjoying the meal with a lifelong friend.

Nearly halfway into the dish before me, I stop even bothering to look at him. I can't stand thinking that this bastard is not only in the same room as me, but I could easily throw myself over the slices of fresh turkey, the lemon spiced fish, the bowls of sauce, the gauntlets of drink, the tastefully baked wheat and grain breads, and stab him with my knife until he's bled out every last drop over his fresh, fluffy plum colored carpet.

He could be dead by now. And no one could do a damn thing to stop me in time.

So why don't I?

_It's easy enough. It would be simple._

But they'd come in and shoot me down the second it happened. And then where would I be?

What would happen to Katniss, and my child, our child. _What would they do to them if we lost the war?_

And, for all I know, Snow could have his very own knife clutched tight, or gun. Concealed perfectly from my view. I could be dead before I even got to him.

I'd be dead. And he'd still be alive.

It's not worth it. Not even a little, if that's the case.

"How do you like the grain breads?" He asks from across the table.

"They taste like garbage," I comment dully, glaring at him with my knife gripped in one hand. _I wish it was the truth._

"Oh come now, Peeta," Snow says, laughing and staring at me, "Don't be so immature. Give it to me straight."

I raise my brow, "It tastes like _rot_."

He frowns then, "You aren't having such a good time, are you?"

"Not particularly."

"You're just taking it the wrong way–"

"Is there a right way to take it?" I ask, staring as he wipes his chin again, "You've kidnaped me, I'm kidnaped, here. In case you hadn't noticed. And I don't even want to guess what you've been trying to do to me. I'm half tempted to stab out my own eyes with this knife. I could do it."

"I doubt that," he says, chuckling, "It's not necessarily kidnap, it's just capture. That's different."

"**So different**," I agree, staring him down, "It doesn't stop your food from tasting as rotten as your soul."

Snow chuckles, "Really, Peeta," he sets down his fork and knife now, "You know, we'll try one more time, one more time to convince you. And if you're not convinced–"

"Not convinced?" I ask, "If I'm not convinced, then what?"

"We'll see about that fear of yours," he says softly, "I know you've... you've always been afraid of hurting Katniss."

My stomach twists in concern, "What do you mean?"

"You're anger," he says, picking up his silverware again and continuing through his food, "I've been watching you closely, and I've noticed something; since you killed Cato, and since he tried to fool with Katniss. I've seen something happening. With you."

"What does that mean?" I ask, fear washing down my back.

"It means," Snow smiles, "You're becoming like him. You don't know what Cato was like growing up. But I do."

"So what? What does that have to do with me?"

Snow, despite being pleased with finally getting into me, frowns and raises his eyebrows in concern, "I'd hate to think what I could do to you, since you even fear it yourself."

* * *

><p>Dinner finished, and stomach full, I shower and sleep in the old room they gave me before the Games had started.<p>

The bed, though overwhelmingly comfortable, makes me miss having Katniss here even more. _Who's taking care of her? Haymitch? Her mother and Prim? Who's helping her through the morning sickness? Who's making sure that she isn't stressing her body?_

_No matter who it is... it's not me._

_I wish I didn't have this bed in the room. I wish I had no choice but the sleep on the floor instead. I wish I could wake up in the morning and feel like I'd slept on concrete._

I curl up in the bed, stare at the wall across the room until I drift off. It's nearly an hour of trying to sleep before it takes over.

* * *

><p>In the morning, I'm given breakfast in my bed and, just as I finish, Fields comes and takes me back to that boring black room again.<p>

The doctor, standing inside and waiting, stares over me as I take my seat. He looks put out but lifts the kit from his wide coat pockets and produces a needle and a small bottle of liquid.

After drawing the odd syrup-like fluid from the bottle, he plants the needle into my forearm and pushes the plunger down. Once finished, he pulls out a set of plugs and fits them into his ears, fishes an odd little metal instrument from his pocket and holds it to mine.

"What does this even do?" I start to ask when he reaches up and flicks it. I jerk away, stumble from my feet to my knees and lean over on one hand as the anguish sears through the drum of my ear, sending cracks of pain into my cheek and eyes.

I try to reach my palm up as blood spills from my nose onto the floor and then my body starts shaking uncontrollably.

Muscles clench and unclench and I'm involuntarily shutting my eyes and opening my jaw wide. I can't even force the scream out as my hands lock in odd positions and I arch my back in pain.

_It's not real pain, all of this is mental_, I try to reassure myself, but that doesn't stop it. That doesn't stop the muscle spasms shooting through my entire system, throwing my body out of control until I'm twisted against the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks, screaming in pain, teeth and jaw set wide and hands clawing at the tiles below me.

I shift my head up to see the door close and struggle to get up, coughing as my innards twist in disagreement. But when I look down I can see them dragging from my stomach.

The shock, whirling my mind around causes me to shut my eyes._ It isn't real, it's not real_. But I can feel them shuddering and sliding over the floor so perfectly that I have to clutch at my mouth to stop from vomiting.

My heart, pounding in my ear, is so overwhelmed that it's beating rapidly, faster then I can count. I'm terrified that it might just die out or I'll have a heart attack. It's impossible at this point to look for the symptoms, because both of my arms are throbbing and clinching so much and so often that I can't tell one pain over the other.

As if I've thought it was bad enough now, the annoying visuals of Katniss and the words she's been saying start displaying around the room.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," she's saying as I struggle to look up, "I hated lying to you, Peeta."

"Please," I drawl out weakly, "The pain is real enough. But the stupid attempt to twist my wife..." My stomach lurches and I stop talking, gasping in agony and clutching my arms around my waist.

I squeeze close to my legs before opening my eyes through the tears, "It's not going to work. I'm not an id–idiot..."

The Katniss image, waving through the water in my eyes looks as put out as the doctor did.

"I wish you'd listen to me and take me seriously," she says, "Aren't I suppose to be the stubborn one?"

"No," I argue back, stretching my body out, and it pulls tight like a rubber band, ready to bounce back into the curled position I was in before. I fight it though, rolling onto my stomach, struggling onto my hands and knees before standing up, "Most often, you'll find..." I swallow and stare at her, "That I can be quite stubborn. More stubborn then even you."

She frowns and stares at me, sits down on the ground, and her face starts leaking.

It startles me enough to try and move to her, but I stop myself before I've taken a step forward.

Katniss, eyes sharp and face angry now, looks up at me, "You have to be so difficult, Peeta. You have to be so annoying."

I step back to get away from her when she starts screaming.

It's the same kind of scream that I've mentioned before. The very one that I don't want to hear from her, she stands up and doesn't stop until I'm screaming words back.

"Stop!" I shout, "You're not her! You're not Katniss, I know you're not Katniss, because she's safe! She's... She's safe."

"I'm a mutt, Peeta!" She shouts, "You have to accept this soon enough. You know it inside. Deep down. I'm a mutt! Nothing I ever said to you was real!"

"Stop saying that! Stop trying to convince me."

Katniss, this one, screams until she blinks out and I'm alone in the room again.

My body, shaking in fear and abuse finally collapses. I don't even remember hitting the floor.

* * *

><p>I open my eyes and feel the stiffness of attempted bed padding underneath me. Not the usual hard floor I'm use to now.<p>

Above me, a screen flickers on, white, then blue. I feel the doctor's cold hand against my neck as he injects me once more with the familiar fluid. _Not again._

_By the end of this, I'll be able to connect the dots._

The screen, now playing our fight in the arena, the first time, fills my vision. I see her getting hit around, the shirt tearing. But it's not my eyes I'm looking at it from. I see it as though I'm doing it. I'm ripping the shirt open myself.

And it's my blood dripping over her chest.

The part I don't expect is the pleasure filling my mind. I'm overly tempted to run my hands up her shoulders and grab her neck.

"No," I whisper between my teeth._ This isn't right._

Her screams trill through my every inch and I hunger for it. The want, overwhelming inside of me, out of control. I want her to scream again and she does. I want to–

"No," I whisper again, trying to turn my head, trying to stop the excitement, the pleasure pulsing away, "_No._"

_This is wrong._

It's not her screaming in fear then, it's me. I'm shaking, uncontrollably, trying to break free, trying to look away. Tears stream down my cheeks as I stare at her. And I can't help the hardness building, the want to ghost my lips against her's. To bite her flesh, to cause bruises and blood to rush up to the surface.

The belts of leather around my wrists and forearms tear finally and I throw the entire, flimsy bed sideways.

My legs, not free however, are stuck as I slam down hard on my side to the ground, bed still clamped tight to my lower half.

"Peeta!" She's screaming and I squeeze my body close as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, "Peeta! Peeta!"

I turn, look up to the image as her lips stretch wide and she screams, the hand thrusting into her pants and I can't stop my own from unbuckling the belt around my waist.

My toes curl as I finally touch myself and the response over my body is immediate. The coloring of everything blurs, the relief fills me and I can't help gasping, staring at Katniss as she struggles, her boots kicking into the dirt.

When I'm done, relieved, the video flicks off, and all at once the pleasure at my actions and the visions on the screen goes away as well.

I pull my hand back in disgust, try to wipe away the evidence of what I've just done, and turn over as bile rushes up. My body shudders, tears prick, and I'm so disgusted with myself that I cough, hack, and wipe my mouth before standing unsteadily.

The door, open now, stand blank and inviting me out until and the peacekeepers walk in.

I turn to them through the haze over tears, poisoned system, lust, disgust, drunk with rage and raw throat, rush forward and grab the first one, twisting his head violently and throwing him to the ground.

All I can feel is the tips of my fingers, the fluid still on them becoming tainted with blood as I surge down into a depth of darkness I've been walking over for months; trying to avoid it.

The second Peacekeeper, Fields, raises his gun in shock, surprised and afraid, but I grab it from his hands and throw it to the ground.

I take the collar of his uniform up in one hand and slam my fist into his face until he's on the ground. I'm hitting him, over and over, and over again until my knuckles are torn and covered in blood.

And he's stopped moving.

Shaking, still shaking so violently like I've been in cold water since nightfall yesterday, I take the clean, shining blade from his belt and thrust it up into a third's stomach as the Peacekeepers rush in to stop me.

I rip it up to his chest and start to twist myself to get free from them all. Outnumbered, though, it's obvious I don't stand a hair of a chance.

I'm knocked around by them, hit in the jaw and stomach until I fall to the floor. Their hands hold me down against it until someone comes and I know it's the good doctor.

I'm lifted, shoved, thrown back into the black room with the second pleasure injection drugging me.

And the video starts again.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. See yall Friday at the latest.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	7. Chapter 2 OPTC: Under New Rule

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Told you I'd post on Friday.

I hope that this schedule is slightly ideal, and not too annoying. Because I didn't want to overwhelm everyone with four posts within two hours. XP

if you have any other alternative idea, do tell. But until then, we're keeping it this way.

Option D, as a lot of ppl seem eager fer it, will be coming up on Monday at the latest. Hope you lot can wait fer it! XP

Also, construction on the site will be starting soon as well... KKVG just needs to stop procrastinating.

Other then that, been playing TF 2, and if anyone else has it, yer welcome to ask me fer my name, maybe we can join up at some point. XP

I've also been watching Six Feet Under, how did I not know about this show fer so friggin long? _

Hmm, and... OH! I posted up Hunger Games fan art! I'm not even kidding. It's on my DeviantArt. It's just a little sketch, but more of them will be going up too, Katniss, Peeta, Peeta and Katniss, more Peeta and Katniss. XP

And, I didn't listen to Bad Romance when I wrote this, so no one big died. Promise.

Thank you all fer sticking around, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love...

Sam: "I really do try to be honest when I'm writing, as much as possible. Whether horrible, amusing, graphic, or simple. Life isn't always perfect, but it's not always tragedy. I'm glad you like B and D, they are both very VERY enjoyable to write. ^^"

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Wherever you go

Whatever you do

I will be right here waiting for you

Whatever it takes

Or how my heart breaks

I will be right here waiting for you

I took for granted, all the times

That I though would last somehow

I hear the laughter, I taste the tears

But I can't get near you now

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Under New Rule<strong>

* * *

><p><em>I don't regret killing her.<em>

Especially now. My own decisions can't afford to be questioned by myself at this point. And, since they haven't locked me up or taken me out, I'm guessing that the growing tension between Coin and fellow peers around her had been taking considerable strain lately.

Even _they _don't regret what I've done.

I've merely been confined while the people of District 13 and Haymitch, maybe a few choice others of twelve, talk over what to do with me.

But at least I don't have to sit here long.

After washing the blood from my hands and face, and changing into some clean clothes, I sit for maybe minutes at the most before Haymitch comes in with another guy.

The guy, standing tall and straight, with close cropped gray hair and sharp blue eyes, walks immediately to me and takes my hand in his.

"Peeta Mellark," he addresses me.

I stand up from the bed, shaking back, "Hi," I say, not trying to sound nervous or concerned.

His smiles wide, "Relax, you're not in any immediate danger. I'm Boggs, I guess I have you to thank for putting me in charge," he raises his brow.

I shrug and look away.

"Don't be worried," He says, more to try and console me into relaxing, "What you did was maybe dangerous and a little stupid, but I understand why you did it. And you're not being punished."

My eyes widen at this and I take my hand from his, "Why not?"

Boggs smiles wider, if possible, and takes a seat in the corner chair, "I was there when you killed her, you know. I was the one holding your center. I heard everything, so I know where you stand. But I'd like to ask you a few more questions."

I nod and sit down on the side of the bed with Haymitch, he hasn't said a thing, but his look is sympathetic.

"You didn't initially intend to kill the leader of power here in thirteen, when you found out where you were going, did you? Because it seems like you've been onto her since the beginning."

I shake my head, "I don't ever intend to kill anyone. But the second I talked to her, I just knew she'd be a threat to Katniss. I can't afford that."

Boggs nods silently, "I thought that was the case. We've been watching you since your first games. You've pretty much said that from the start, as far as I've seen, and you've lived up to it. It doesn't surprise me at all that you'd chance getting killed to take out Coin. This doesn't make you our leader though, I hope you know that."

"I just killed your leader," I explain, "I didn't expect to live, let alone rule a district. I'm also only eighteen. I may have done some things in the past that were dumb, but I'm not brain damaged in the slightest."

Haymitch laughs nervously and nods, "We don't think that, Peeta."

"I want the place she comes to, from the Capitol, to be more safe then twelve was," I say, "If it's not, then her life is at risk here. I can't afford to lose her."

Boggs stands up and paces for a moment, "We've talked over you're position a lot, Peeta. You're more then valuable. You're a great asset. And Katniss would be just as great. I want, more then anything, both you and her here, safe from any harm. And while we can't have you leading us, of course, I would like to appoint you."

"Appoint me?" I ask, heart racing in my chest.

"You have her best intentions in mind and right now, if there's anyone's life at risk, it's hers. And in turn, your's. You have a gift, Peeta. I want to put it to good use."

"What do you mean?"

Boggs looks me dead in the eyes and says: "I want you to make a few decisions, and be our face for some time."

I stare up at him in surprise, "Decisions like what?"

"Concerning Katniss, and rescuing her, and," he takes a breath, "You've been in twelve for this long and alone you've gotten this speech quality and charisma, I want to actually run you through a few classes. And appoint you the second leader."

"You're kidding me–"

"We in thirteen think that some sort of merging needs to take place, a sign of companionship and company, comfort, and agreement. A show that both sides are being recognized. That was when I decided that we should have two leaders. One of thirteen, and one of twelve. You have great concern for your home and your people, and Katniss. Everyone knows you. And while you're a risk because you're young and somewhat of a loose cannon, I think you're the only one fit for the job."

"Boggs," I start, "You do realize this is a bad idea?"

"It isn't," he says, grinning, "Taking you into classes will help you out, your speech skills are your best quality, and you're a young, more fresh mind. We could use someone like you at my side. After two Games, there's no one more deserving. You also took out Coin, and while a few people resent you for that, the vast majority understand, and even some are grateful."

I frown and turn my head to look away from him, "So, I don't have a choice, in other words."

"You do," he corrects me, "You have every ounce of decision on this as you would to cut your hair or not eat vegetables."

"We're not pushing you into anything," Haymitch says now, "And you can think it over."

"No," I say, turning to Boggs, "I don't need to. I'll do it. On one condition."

"Name it."

I stare at him, "We save Katniss, immediately."

Boggs's eyes widen, "I'm not sure–"

"I don't care if you're sure or not," I say, standing up, "Nothing's holding you back, you have the power to construct an attack on the Capitol. I want her out of there. It's number one priority over anything else."

Boggs closes his mouth and nods, then holds his hand out to take mine up, "Alright. You have a deal then."

"We'll save her," I confirm.

He nods again.

All things aside, I'm fairly lucky. Saved Katniss's mother and Prim, killed Coin, and became joint leader of twelve and thirteen, all in one day.

I still have questions about Boggs's logic there, but I'll take what I can for now, anything to protect Katniss.

* * *

><p>I join Katniss's mother and Prim in their quarters to let them know of the current situation.<p>

Prim reacts in the only way I expect her to, wide eyes, gaping mouth, still in shock of what I've done.

Katniss's mother, however, pulls me into a tight hug and rubs my back. She doesn't say anything as Prim goes into near hysterics.

"I can't believe you killed her, Peeta," Prim's saying, "I just can't believe it."

After I leave them, I visit Finnick for a short enough time, just to see how he's holding on. If I'm going into the Capitol to save Katniss, then I'll make sure we get Annie as well.

Finnick can hardly function without her.

It's being around him that makes me feel the most guilt. _I should be like him. _I should be in shock with Katniss in the hands of Snow.

_I should be insane. But I'm not._

What does that say about me?

Is it because I'm more angry then scared? Have I just not figured out how much danger she could be in? Is it just because I'm a different person?

Or is there some kind of affection I'm missing?

Or maybe... maybe we're not like him and Annie. It's different.

Whether a good or bad difference, it's the only one I've got. And I'm glad I'm not like him, too. Because I'm more useful like this.

* * *

><p>I spend the rest of the remaining day sitting in my own room and reading a politics book Boggs has given me. But it's hard to concentrate on the words of it when I know what's happening under the skin, the preparation for combat, search and rescue.<p>

I've already been fitted and dressed accordingly, gun over my back and knife tucked on my waist. I might as well be one of their Peacekeepers.

It just surprises me that they trust me with the weapons. Granted, they have no real reason not to, but still. I _did _kill their leader. That has to have left some sort of impression.

Boggs knows better though, and if I'm going to be a sort of leader, I need some show of power besides the mental.

And going into the Capitol is best handled with a weapon.

Finally, Boggs comes in at last and salutes me, "I figured you'd want to come," he says, looking at my gear.

"I do," I say, tucking the book on the shelf behind my bed and joining him in the walk down the hall.

We take the elevator up and walk out onto the hard dirt.

The hovercraft waiting for us is ready to part the second we enter it. And once we've strapped ourselves down, I allow myself a moment of realization at what's happening now.

Back into the Arena, as usual.

Boggs watches me during the entire ride, and it doesn't bother me, it just gets amusing when he barely even glances away for a second, without even trying to hide his stare.

Gale, at my side, keeps saying things to me on occasion, "I still can't believe you killed her," is the most common. Often, though, he adds in: "She deserved it."

"Are you okay?"

I turn to him and nod, "I'm okay, yeah."

He stares at me, unsure, more concerned then he has any right to be, "I've never seen someone die before. It's bothering me."

"You'll get over it."

He shakes his head, "It doesn't even bother you, does it? That you killed a woman?"

"A monster," I correct him, "She wasn't a woman in any way. And after killing Cato, and Brutus... Seeing others die, it's nothing now."

Gale watches me in surprise and shakes his head, "I didn't like Coin, but I feel like you know something about her that I don't."

"Not really," I say, and then explain, "I just knew that she was going to crush everything I loved if I let her live. Monster. And you kill those. So I killed her."

He nods then, understanding, I think.

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd kill for her," he whispers softly, "You didn't hesitate to kill Coin the second you got the chance. I hope I don't get in your way, I might be next."

I turn to him finally and stare into his eyes, "You mean something to Katniss, and you'd never hurt her. You're not a threat."

"And if I took her from you?" He offered.

I shrug, "That's her choice. I'm not her conscious."

Gale scoffed and looked away at last, staring out the window of the Hovercraft.

* * *

><p>We descend into the Capitol and our vehicle empties with me, Boggs, and Gale last.<p>

And even though we're after the rest, we're still nearly overwhelmed with combat. I don't even bother with the gun yet, Peacekeepers swarm and I use my knife to do as little damage as possible without leaving them as an immediate threat.

We crack through the security system on the top floor and drop down the sets of stairs into a dark hallway.

The ones in front flash lights to guide us before finally finding a switch against the wall.

Once on, it lights up a hallway full of doors.

"Check these," Boggs says immediately and Gale and I turn back to get the ones we've already passed.

"Check them slowly, and together," Boggs says, "Don't hesitate to ask for help."

The rooms that Gale and I check together are both empty, and startling at the same time. They're black. Pitch black rooms, with a chair in the center.

The first one we check, Gale looks at me with a raised brow.

But after that, it simply becomes... expected. And to our annoyance, they're all empty.

Gale kicks the base of the past door in frustration and we take down into a large center room, that splits off three other ways.

"We shouldn't split up," I find myself saying immediately, "I mean, we don't have time, but we can't afford to split up, there aren't enough of us to handle that."

Boggs looks at me and smiles wide, "You're right," he points to his left, "We'll go down this one first."

And we don't have to look far.

The very first door we open, walls black, instead of a chair is a bed. And the bed is being filled already.

"Katniss!" I shout in relief and run to her.

She looks up, confused, startled, and afraid, "What?" Her long hair is still up in a braid, but it's been slightly disturbed, her face is broken out in a sweat, and she's wearing clothes similar to the ones we casually wear when we go into training. She doesn't look even the slightest bit harmed.

I grab at the belts on her wrists, waist, and feet. She doesn't seem to be in any pain at all still, and once I have her free, I help her from the bed.

She smiles up at me before looking past, "Gale!" She shouts, nearly shoving me away and running to him.

Surprised, naturally, I turn and watch as she flings herself against him.

"Oh, Gale," She sighs out, starting to cry, "I was so scared! It's good to see you, it's good to see anyone. How are Prim and mom?"

Gale stares at her in surprise, "Katniss?"

She stops and looks up at him, "I've missed you."

He smiles nervously and pats her back, "I've missed you too. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I can see her face light up, "Especially now."

Gale pulls back and turns her, "Aren't you more happy to see... Peeta?" He's nervous, scared of my reaction.

But I just feel numb.

And even more numb as she stares at me, her brows furrowing in confusion as she tilts her head and steps forward, unsure.

"I–" she smiles, confused still, "I," and then she shrugs and holds out her hand, "I guess? We've never properly met, have we?"

I stare at the hand, and feel the chill bumps rise over my skin, the fear settling in, "Katniss?"

"That's right," she grins wide, "You know my name?"

"I..." I swallow as my stomach drops and I have to fight the tears prickling, "Of course I know your name, Katniss."

_Of course I know your name._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	8. Chapter 2 OPTD: Against The Higher Power

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option D<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Have to pop this thing out fast, and no time to chat. XP

Got to get ready fer July 4th celebration. Enjoy option D, love you all, see you Thursday fer Option A Chapter 3!

Continue on, read and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love...

Sam: "I really do try to be honest when I'm writing, as much as possible. Whether horrible, amusing, graphic, or simple. Life isn't always perfect, but it's not always tragedy. I'm glad you like B and D, they are both very VERY enjoyable to write. ^^"

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I just want you close.

Where you can stay forever.

You can be sure,

That it will only get better.

You and me together,

Through the days and nights.

I don't worry 'cause everything's going to be alright

People keep talking,

They can say what they like.

But all I know is,

Everything's going to be alright.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Against The Higher Power<strong>

* * *

><p>Katniss's fingers move across the stitches softly, her eyes wondering over the bullet holes, staring, memorizing.<p>

It's nice, to be cared for, after so long. It's really, really nice.

She smiles as my breathing comes down, smiles in the most beautiful way. Her bangs coming down, her long braid softly rested along the length of my shoulder tickling me as her body shudders from her amusement.

"Laugh all you want," I say, grinning despite myself, "If you do that from time to time, you can laugh forever."

She rolls her eyes, "It wasn't awful?"

"Awful?" I raise my brows, "Many words, awful not being one of them."

"Well, it might get better," she suggests.

I roll her onto her back and kiss her breath away, "I wouldn't complain if it stayed the same," I whisper in her ear, moving my hand down to her stomach and settling it at home, just over her slightly swollen stomach, "You're getting bigger."

She moves to shove me but I grab her arm up to stop it.

"You want to hurt me?" I ask, "bullet wound," I remind her, pointing at it.

She scoffs but wriggles her hand free to lightly touch the stitches again, "Do you mean it?"

"Mean what, beautiful? That you're getting big?"

Katniss glares and then says: "No, of course not. I mean that you don't mind me not being so–"

"Talented?" I supply and she nods, "I'd hope you weren't, I mean, I might be... Concerned, if you were. I think I'd have reason to be hesitant if you didn't use your teeth on an accident, or find it distasteful at first."

She stares up at me and grins, "You never had that problem."

"No, I didn't," I say, rolling over onto my back again and staring at the roof, "It's different though. You can't always expect it to be easy."

Katniss returns to her resting spot against my side, laying her head down on my shoulder again, careful of the stitches. She moves her hand up my stomach, along the center of my chest, up my neck and stops to brush the roughness of my jaw.

"This is easy."

I can't avoid the smile that spreads over my lips at her words, "It is," I confirm.

* * *

><p>The next morning we get our schedules, and the only responsibility I've been given is to go to have my wounds examined.<p>

I sit on the table as the doctor cleans them over and watches my reactions as he does so.

"Everything seems fine, your stomach is under unusual stress from walking though, I'm going to put you in bed for the next two weeks, you understand?"

A tinge of annoyance fills me, but I nod despite it. I can't argue unless I want guts spilling all over the floor.

Walking back to my room and laying down in bed is the most annoying part of it, and they have a person from the ward bring me my lunch. _Bed ridden, for two weeks. What use am I like this?_

Katniss comes in, huffed and upset, but stops the attitude immediately when she sees me, "What are you doing in bed?"

I take the paper I've been glaring at for hours now and hand it to her.

She looks it over and then the worried expression on her face intensifies, "You tore your stitches? What where you doing? Breathing?"

"Katniss–"

"No," she walks over and sits beside me, "You didn't do anything straining at all last night."

"Except walking this morning," I explain.

Katniss sighs and lays down beside me, curling up against me, "I wish they'd put me to bed too. Soon enough, walking will be a problem for me as well."

* * *

><p>The two weeks pass without harm. They relieve me from my bed and my first duty for the day is to go down and visit Beetee so that he can see to my leg.<p>

He only takes moments to overlook it before being somewhat satisfied with the results.

After that, I'm required to go to some meeting of sorts, but I blow it off. I've been wanting to see Finnick for days, so I go on to the wards to see him.

He's in his bed as usual, tying and untying his knots. His hair irritated, his arms shaking, his eyes darting around.

I walk up to the bed and announce myself, "Hey Finnick, mind if I sit?"

Finnick looks up and then nods, "Sure. Sit down."

I take the seat offered and watch him, "I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing."

"Me?" He asks, laughing nervously, "I'm not the one that got shot . I'm fine. How's your wounds?"

I can't help smoothing my hand over my stomach, reminding myself that they're still there, just not as loud as before, "There more-or-less harmless at this point."

Finnick nods, "And Katniss? How's the baby doing?"

"They both are fine and healthy, she's been going in with the doctors, to check everything over often enough," I explain, "The baby's fine."

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

I narrow my brows at this question, it should be obvious, "The baby's not nearly big enough to tell. Katniss hasn't been pregnant long."

Finnick stops typing his knots and looks at me, "How big is her stomach getting?" He asks, grinning like a fool.

"It's pronounced," I demonstrate, "Enough so that anyone walking by would notice it's a baby and not just weight gained. Katniss hates it, but I don't."

Finnick's grin widens more then it should have any right to at this point, "What do you want it to be?"

"I don't care," I say, sitting back in my chair, "It's mine and her's. I don't care what gender it is."

"That's good," He agrees, staring at me, "Tell her I say 'hi'."

I stand up from his dismissal and nod, "Alright, I will. You take care okay, Finnick?"

"You too," he says, going back to tying his knots.

The second I'm out of the wards, Haymitch's hand is on my shoulder and he leans in to whisper while we walk.

"You really shouldn't skip your schedule, Peeta."

"Why not?" I ask, "They were doing fine before I was here, what do they honestly need me for?"

"You're setting a bad example," he explains, "And the fact that Katniss does it as well makes you both look like you're defying Coin."

"Please," I push from him, stop walking, and stare into his eyes, "I'm healing from wounds, I have wounded friends, and Katniss is pregnant. The only responsibilities we have is to ourselves."

Haymitch frowns and crosses his arms, "You need to be careful though. You're both vulnerable right now."

"That's exactly my point," I say, "Now, if you don't mind, I have some place to be."

Lunch is next, and it's the first time that me and Katniss have eaten around each other in District Thirteen, in complete silence.

She watches me, dropping her hand below the table to squeeze my leg in support.

I grin and lean over to press my lips to hers.

"Are you okay?" She asks softly.

"Not really," I respond, "I don't like being in this place, it's worse then being in the Capitol. I feel like a–"

"Prisoner?" She asks, "I do too."

I look back down to eat and wrap my other arm around her shoulders.

"We need to talk," she whispers in my ear, "After this, we'll go back to our room. It's important."

I stop and turn to her again, "What is it? Is the baby alright?"

"The baby is fine," she laughs softly, "Don't worry about it so much."

We eat the rest of the time in silence and walk back to our quarters together. Katniss and I both take seats on the bed and she grabs my hands in hers.

"I know you weren't at the meeting or anything," she says softly, "There was this interview, from the Capitol."

"Interview?"

"With my mother."

My entire body freezes up and I stare at her, "Katniss–"

"She looks alright," Katniss says as I smooth my thumbs over the skin between hers and her forefingers, "They didn't ask her much, just about the rebellion, and what she thinks of me joining it."

I raise my brow, "We haven't really done much for it, though. A few shots and interviews, but nothing entirely big."

Katniss nods, "They want more though, that's obvious. Coin wants me to be the Mockingjay for them, to help let the people know, or think, that I'm running things. Or something. I don't want to do it, but Peeta, my mother–"

"Do it," I say softly, "We both should, really. I feel worthless just sitting around here. And you could probably talk them into a few things."

Katniss's eyebrows knit in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"You haven't thought of throwing in your own terms?" I ask and she shakes her head.

"I don't understand what you mean–"

"I'll scratch your back if you scratch a few spots for me first," I explain, "Give them some terms. If you be their Mockingjay, have them give you something in return. You haven't thought about that?"

"No," Katniss says, "What should I ask for?"

I laugh at her complete innocence in the situation. She'd considered being the Mockingjay for free, either that, or she hadn't taken the thought seriously yet, "Some freedom, for a start. I'm tired of being stuck up in here."

"And go where?"

"Hunting?" I suggest, "That would be good for the both of us, I think, and I want to visit twelve. Neither of us has seen it since I got shot. We should go, now that I'm back to full strength."

Katniss nods softly, "Anything else?"

"Annie," I go on, "Finnick's been a wreck, she should be safe from harm. And your ability to make further requests, should the moment present itself. Your mother and sister, despite anything they say or do, to be brought back with no harm done to them, and immune to any accusations put forth during or after the war. There's no telling what Snow's putting them through, but I bet he's trying to get them to the point where they'll say or do anything to keep you safe."

Katniss's eyes water at this as she writes quickly down everything I'm saying.

"You should also ask that if not given an order strictly by a doctor or nurse for your health, that no one else can make you say or do anything you don't want. And to be given reports at any point in time, should the war movement be hindered, harmed, stalled, or move forth considerably. I think we both would like a general idea of what's going on around us."

"Anything else?" She asks softly.

"Youth, children, mothers, and innocence of the Capitol to not be put to any form of harm after the war, the last thing we want is the Districts trying to exact some sort of revenge. Ask for the people of District Thirteen to put them into some sort of safe hands, at least until the blood on the battlefield has faded some. You need more then just words to save people from each other. And the people of the Capitol are just as stupid as children, they don't know any better."

I watch her scribble this down and she looks up again.

"Anything else?"

I pull the pen and paper from her and set them on the shelf behind our bed, "Not that I can think of at the moment, I'll try to get more in mind, but for now... I think it's about time we relax a little."

She raises her brow at the suggestion as I stand, walk across the room, and lock the door.

"Oh," she says, smiling smartly.

I walk back to the bed and climb over her, pressing my lips to hers as she lays back against the comforter and pillow.

Her arms move over the front of my shirt and she starts unbuttoning from the top.

It's been a long time since we've actually partaken in the act itself. Before the Arena. I almost can't remember what it feels like, almost.

"Rusty?" She asks as I've stopped moving.

"Not even a little," I say softly, pulling my shirt from my body as she starts trying to unbutton my pants. Here, she's got me nearly completely undressed and she's still wearing everything.

I untuck her green shirt from her pants, lift it up over head and toss it away. I can't stop the sigh of relief, staring at her pale skin, "I've missed this."

"Me too," she says, smiling.

I lift her up, unsnap her bra and pull it off, her breasts fall from it, not nearly as small as I'm use to. I reach up, palming them, rolling the flesh between my fingers.

She breathes out in surprise when I take one up in my mouth, the load moan escapes her lips and her fingers are immediately in my hair, fingers gripping the back of my neck, "Peeta."

Her pants unbutton easy enough and I push them down her thighs, off with her shoes and I hear them clunk down to the floor. I peel away her underwear, soothing my free hand between her legs, but when I start to do more, her hand catches mine.

"Please," she breathes out.

I stop and look up to her, "Anything."

She smiles, her eyes open, staring at me, "I just need it, now. Don't tease me or anything, please."

Her hand releases mine and I nod, shifting my body, stretching her legs wide. I remove my pants, kick them down my legs, toe my shoes off, and then strip my boxers with them.

Katniss lifts her leg eagerly, shifting her body against the sheets and staring up at me.

I stare back at her for a moment, move my fingers down to hold myself and position against her, "I love you."

She reaches up to trace her fingers over my cheek, lips, and nose, gripping my waist with her feet, "I love you," she whispers as I press into her.

I reach down, grab under her thighs and hoist her up, pulling her close against my hip and nearly gasp as the muscles of her body clinch around me. Warmth and wetness overwhelming, her breath against my ear as I thrust into her.

Katniss reaches back behind her head, pulling the braid around to lay over her shoulder. She arches her back as we move, sweat dripping down my cheeks, tickling the skin and mixing with her own.

The round of her stomach brushing against my form, thicker then usual, more of a comfort and adoration than anything.

We should never go longer then this without making love.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Do review. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	9. Chapter 3 OPTA: Confusion

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

How's was all yer July 4ths? Or Canada Day's? XP

Writing this chapter was a bitch, I'll admit. I couldn't get up the motivation until today. And it was all Jordin Sparks's fault that I got it out. I practically had that song 'Battlefield' on repeat while writing this. Expect that to be in the side notes some time soon. Heh.

Other then that, nothing rly going on. Saw Beastly, anyone else should totally watch that. It was gooood. OH, and my birthday is in 7 days; July 14th. Ah, 23, here I come. Which is my favorite number. Win.

Other then that, nothing. Oh, except that you can expect Chapter 3, Option B, on Sunday!

Love you all bunches and bunches, welcome new readers! Welcome to those of you that power read through my shit in like two weeks, that amazes me when you guys do that shit (A big welcome to fliparty, who's the latest with it). XP Welcome OLD readers, thank you fer staying avid and enjoying my hard werk (ehem, ramsdra).

I love ALL OF YOU THE SAME! Even the ninja readers that hit and run and don't leave a review, yes, I love you all too. And there's lots of you. _

I accept anonymous reviews, you know...

So yeah, take care everyone, see you in three, read on fer now and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Sam: "I always respond. XP And aww, yer comment made me blush a little. I get high praise often, but it never stops getting old. Gosh, that sounded conceited. Well, I'm not lying. T_T I always thought that Peeta would handle demands so much better then Katniss, so I tried to think of some good ones... right on the spot too. _ And I had to add in some Finnick, do expect more. Along with Chaff, Haymitch, you know. I'll try to keep it linear."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Over my shoulder.

Running away.

Feels like I'm falling.

Losing my day.

Cold,

And dry.

Cold and dry.

Fog out my daylight.

Torture my night.

Feels like I'm falling,

Far out of sight.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - Confusion<strong>

* * *

><p>They've put me in this new room, the bed that I lay on instead, and they inject me. Time and time again they inject me and play the videos from the first arena. Her words filling my mind, that she's a mutt, that she's been lying.<p>

It's not until she's saying the words on the screen that I'm concerned, confused.

It's... it's obvious she's lying about something. I'm... I'm not sure what. But it's obvious.

When she kisses me in the cave, I can feel it, but it feels so cold. It feels like she doesn't mean it like I do.

I struggle to turn my head away, but there's these sides that keep my head at this angle, and I can't help but watch in vain as she drops the hive of tracker jackers onto me.

When the screen goes off, and my screaming settles down at last, I finally realize that I'm not the only one doing it.

The two Avoxes, Darius and Lavinia, have both been in the other room for some time now. They were being questioned before, but it hadn't been this bad. I haven't noticed their screams because I've been screaming myself hoarse.

The door opens and I can't even turn to see who it is. And then they're at my side, removing my restraints and lifting me from the bed.

I'm taken, dizzily, barely able to stand, into the room with the two Avoxes.

Their eyes meet mine as I'm thrown down on the floor opposite to them. I can't help but to stare into their eyes, so full of fear, as I'm strapped up against the wall. Helpless to stop anything from happening to them.

Darius is from District Twelve, and I know him well enough, Lavinia is the girl Katniss told me about. She's a woman. And the thought of what they've been doing to these two horrifies me.

Human. How can you treat a human like they're nothing? Like they're of so little importance.

I can only imagine how it must feel to know that your life means nothing at all to anyone in the world. To know that the only reason you're being tortured is to shake the foundations of another person.

_They're only doing this to get into me._

_Well, they've certainly gotten into me already, they don't need to do this to achieve that._

Darius stares at me with wide eyes, the Peacekeepers around prepare them against an odd machine, an assortment of tools, sharp, pointed tools, on a table nearby.

Lavinia's chest heaves up in down in fear, but when she meets my gaze, she stops flitting about.

I have to do something, and if I can't do it with action, I have to let their last moment go on with some sort of ease.

"You're not nothing," I tell them both, "I'll remember both of you better then anyone."

Their eyes soften, tears on their cheeks.

The Peacekeeper nearest turns to me, "Quiet."

"You were never nothing, to me and Katniss," I promise them, "You're people, you're two people. You matter!"

"Shut up," The Peacekeeper says.

"Lavinia!" I shout and her eyes meet mine, "You're life means something to me! And Katniss hasn't once forgotten about you. She's sorry, we both are."

Her body is shocked so violently then, legs and arms flailing about helplessly as the torture is poured into her. Her screams deafen me and then... they stop. They stop so completely that I find myself rushing forward to see if she's okay. But my restraints hold me back.

Darius is screaming in fear, cowering and shaking.

The tears on my cheeks sting my eyes and I can't even reach up to stop them. I don't want to, even if I could. It's nothing to the pain she's just endured.

"Dead," one of the Peacekeepers says, "Too much voltage. We'll have to use less."

"Darius!" I shout, but he's screaming so horribly that I don't know if he understands, if he even hears me.

"You can't do this to him!" I aim my shouts at the Peacekeepers, "He's not just some animal, he's a person! You can't do this."

"Shut up," the Peacekeeper warns a third time, "Or I'll shut you up myself."

When they shock Darius, I fear the worst, watching his body jerking like hers did. But it stops finally, and he's still alive. I don't know if I'm happy or angry about it, but I feel so numb watching them as they beat him down.

They slam their fists into him, asking him about the rebellion, asking him about working with Haymitch, something like that.

He just shakes his head. He can't answer, even if he wants to. There's nothing he can do.

The blood spills from his mouth, teeth grinding each time they hit him, until his cheeks are purple. Until they leave the room and leave him in here with me.

I stare across at him, tears overwhelming me, "I'm sorry."

He tries to shake his head as his body falls back and he stares up at the roof, blood sloshing down his front.

I want to say more, but the Peacekeepers come in again and remove me from the room.

The last thing I see is Lavinia, her limp body beside Darius, and he's staring at me, eyes wet and wide.

"Darius," I manage to sob out as the door closes, "Where are you taking me?"

I don't need to bother asking though, as they pull me back into my room, right by Darius's, tie me back down to the bed, and turn the video screen on again.

Instead of fear, this time, I feel that odd anger bubbling as she starts taunting me. I can hardly stand to look at her face.

I struggle against the bonds, yank and pull, baring my teeth.

Time passes as the anger ebbs, as the sleep takes over, and I'm finally out for the night.

* * *

><p>I'm woken, it seems, just as I've fallen asleep.<p>

Everything seems blurred as I'm hoisted from the bed, dragged from the room and down the hall. As long as they get me away from that place, I don't care where they take me next.

They eventually let me up to walk on my own, and it's then that I realize where I'm at, yet again.

Portia walks to me and, looking unsure, rests her hand on my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" She asks softly.

I shake my head and she just nods in understanding.

"You look exhausted," She says, handing me over to the prep team.

They take care of me, cleaning my body, trying their hardest to cover up the damage displayed over my face and neck, dressing me up in a tight uniform and trying their best to keep their faces straight as they do it.

"I don't know if I'll see you all again," I say finally as Portia rolls up my sleeves, "I don't know how long I can hold onto anything."

Portia's eyes water as she stares up at me, "Peeta, please don't do this now–"

"I have to," I whisper, barely able to feel my voice, "I might not get another chance. They're doing something to me. I can... can barely hold on now."

Yessenia pats my shoulder from the side, watching me in concern, "I can tell."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Prudence says angrily, trying her hardest to look normal, but I can tell that she's bothered.

"What they're doing," I start, "I don't know what it's doing to me, but it's not good. I just... I want you all to know that I've been grateful, meeting you all and getting to know you. It's meant a lot to me. You've all been a great comfort in the Capitol. And you all are very important to me."

Miggy, his hands gripping tight on his spray can, smiles sadly and nods.

"I'm going to try and fight it as long as I can," I continue, looking at them each in turn, "I'm afraid for you guys, after what I saw with the red heads, I just... I don't want that happening with you four. I don't think I could bare it."

"Don't worry about us," Portia says, tears running down her cheeks, "We'll be fine. We're just worried about you."

I shrug at her words, try to give her some sort of comfort, "Whatever they do to me is out of anyone's power or ability to control or stop. There's nothing I can do, and it's no one's fault. It's getting harder and harder to come back from the stuff they pour in my mind."

They all nod in understanding.

"No matter what, though, no matter what happens, you four will always be in my heart," I say, trying to control my own emotions now, "I don't see any bright side from this, but I'll do what I can."

Portia pulls me into a hug then, wrapping her arms tightly around me and burying her face in my chest.

Miggy comes in next, joined by the other two finally, in a large group hug.

When they pull away, Portia is nearly in pieces, "You do what you can, Peeta. You always do, but that girl is your priority. Just try to hang on, as long as you can."

"I will," I promise.

* * *

><p>I'm seated near Snow as he talks to the cameras before him. I'm barely understanding as I read over the script they hand me, asking me to recite it.<p>

What am I now, some sort of damage prop? Set here in this odd, unusual, unreasonable position, just to bother anyone who's watching? Or Katniss... to bother her the most effectively?

"As I've said, before," I tremble out, staring away from the camera, "The only thing that can be effective at this point in the starting of the war is a cease-fire. It's necessary, if the world plans to come out even slightly intact." I swallow, trying to hold onto the screen of Panem as I stare at it, "The damage done in District Seven, for example, a broken dam, has caused back–"

My mind blurs as I read from what I'd memorized from the paper, but I can't hold onto the words, they come out and I'm barely sure what I'm saying at the moment. The video of it playing back in front of me gathers most of my attention as I talk.

"A granary collapsing from the fire spreading through District–" he's saying, I think it's me, and I turn as the image of me changes.

It's Katniss now, Katniss on the screen in a place that's charred and burned, pointing to the remains of some sort of... some sort of place. Vaguely familiar, but I don't have time to grasp onto it when the screen flicks back to me again.

"Continue on," one of the men behind the camera whispers and I turn away from the screen again.

"The," I breathe, feeling like I'm suffocating now, "The water purification plant bombed... yes-yesterday–"

The screen flicks again in my peripheral vision, Finnick now, talking about the girl, Rue, from the first arena.

I can't help turning to look at it again.

Snow moves from his spot to the back of the room and starts saying to one of the men: "You now, send out the hovercraft, take them out. They'll regret doing this during a live broadcast."

The Peacekeeper, nodding, leaves the room in a rush.

The screens flickers back and forth, images of Katniss, me; looking confused and blinking back and forth, the wreckage of District Twelve again, me then, and I'm finally so overwhelmed that I stand up and move from the stage as the Capitol seal comes up on the screen.

"Sit down," one man orders, grabbing my shoulders and leading me back to the chair, "Go ahead and sit down, take a breath and calm yourself."

Snow comes back as I attempt to take deep breaths and look as in control of myself as I can.

The screen comes back to us and I can't quite grab onto the words or pay any attention as things start slipping out.

"Peeta," I barely hear Snow say as he turns to me, "Given the events that have happened tonight, do you have any last words to say to Katniss Everdeen?"

_Last words._

My body shudders and I try to grab onto the relevance and significance of what I'm about to say. I have to..._ do what I can._

"Katniss," I hiss out, turning to the camera like I've done before, my hand gripping tight onto the seat below me to try and hold onto some sort of tangible material, to keep myself grounded, "how... how do you think this will end?" I breathe, swallowing back the bile struggling against my feelings, "What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol . Not in the Districts. And you... in Thirteen..."

The men behind the camera freeze, staring at me as I stop and reach my hand up to clutch at my tie, trying to get the words out.

"Dead," I shout, arms shaking, "by morning!"

Snow's hysterical, moving from his spot again, "End it!"

"No!" I shout more hoarsely, trying to stand up, "Katniss, you have to run! You have to get out of there!"

The Peacekeepers rushing at me begin to knock down the equipment.

"Run, Katniss!" I continue screaming, struggling against them before the front one grabs my collar and slams his fist hard against my jaw. I fall back against the arms pulling me down, blood spills from my mouth before they grab me off of the stage and out of the room.

Snow, following after, is shouting angrily, "You'll regret this, Peeta. You'll wish you hadn't said a word."

"The only thing I regret is not killing you when I had the chance in there," I say back, barely holding onto anything at this point as they take me into the room where Darius is and strap me down again.

"No," I start to whisper, trying to get back up, "What am I doing in here?"

Darius gets up, tries to move his arms as the Peacekeepers grab his wrists.

"What are you doing to him?" I breathe out as one of them lays his arm out on the board in front of him, pulling up a sharp tool from the table still sitting nearby.

"What are you doing to him!" I shout as he screams, "What are you doing to him!"

Darius's screams become accompanied by their own shouts of anger, asking him questions, and when he can't respond with words... They start cutting through his fingers.

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Reviews are always loved. No matter how small or large. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	10. Chapter 3 OPTB: Like Hunger

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option B<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hey, hey everyone!

How has ya'll's weekends been so far? Enjoying the lack of things to do? Gosh, I wish I could have some of that. XP

Despite not having werk anymore, I'm still busy as hell. Heh, writing nonstop rly, playing games with TristAn, watching serieses and movies. _

So, guess what's in four days? Huh? Hmm? My birthday. XP Yeah, no kidding. July 14th.

And guess what's in 5 days? Ah, yes, yes, HP 7 Part 2. Ahh... nothing like HP coming out fer my birthday. It's not the first time, not the first time at all. ^^

You all going to see it? I hope so. And have any of you heard of The Potter Games? No? Look into it, it might interest you.

Other then that, nothing else to report. Oh, yes as hell there is. I'm an AUNT! No freaking kidding. My bro's gf had her baby. Another Cancerian like me, win. XP

And yes, that really is it now.

Thank you all fer coming back, enjoying the story, enjoying the options. And reading all of them, some of you are tards, I swear. XP

Love you all anyways tho, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and enjoy! And I'll see you fer Chapter 3, Option C on Wednesday!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Sam: "I always respond. XP And aww, yer comment made me blush a little. I get high praise often, but it never stops getting old. Gosh, that sounded conceited. Well, I'm not lying. T_T I always thought that Peeta would handle demands so much better then Katniss, so I tried to think of some good ones... right on the spot too. _ And I had to add in some Finnick, do expect more. Along with Chaff, Haymitch, you know. I'll try to keep it linear."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

A new age of reason.

Brain treason, to trick the mind.

What good is searching,

If nothing's there to find?

We arrive at this place,

Of no return my brothers.

Only to discover that our minds have led us away,

So far from the painful truth,

Of who we are.

What's right is wrong.

What's come has gone.

What's clear and pure is not so sure.

It came to me.

All promises become a lie.

All that's benign corrupts in time.

If it's real for me, do I have to prove it to you?

Why do revelations fade to cold blue untruths?

It's oh-so relative.

Subservient in total to one's perspective.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - Like Hunger<strong>

* * *

><p><em>She looks best like this.<em> _She looks amazing underneath me, screaming, struggling, and afraid. She looks right._

I can't stop the thoughts, I can't help feeling like I should be enjoying this. _It's... it's always been like this, hasn't it? There's no way I could've missed it._

I could've just... just ignored how aroused I was, because I was afraid she'd die.

It was Cato, not me. That's the part that was disappointing. How could I not have seen it before? I want to do these things to her.

The feelings I had when I pleasured her, when I made her feel good, they were nothing compared to this.

I stare up, stare so hard into her horror-filled eyes, rubbing myself out until I'm exhausted, and I just can't do it anymore. And despite the pleasure, and sensitivity, I can't help feeling like something's missing.

_It's not really her,_ I remind myself,_ it's still not really her._

The only time I'll feel anything completely and utterly satisfying is when I'm back with her. When it's just me and her, and not this stupid video screen showing me what I want.

I've done up my pants, I've made myself comfortable now that the video is off and the overwhelming urge to do... _other things _has went away.

The screams from the room beside mine has stopped now, I can only guess that Darius is dead, that he's finally, _finally_, not being tortured.

It's completely quiet, unusually quiet, since I can almost hear the whistle building in my ear as something else becomes apparent. There's no screaming, no video, no reason for me to be here alone. _Where are the Peacekeepers?_

I'm glad I've calmed down and taken care of my clothes though, because the door suddenly bursts open and a small can is thrown in.

I have a second to look at it before it explodes and the room fills with gas. I have less time then that to breathe it in and annoyance fills me because:_ it's knock out gas._

And I'm knocked out.

* * *

><p>Sounds fill my ears at last as I wake up from the dead sleep I was forced into, and I'm seated upward as someone flashes a bright, blinding light into my eye.<p>

There's pressure on my hand and I look down as another person is... _checking my pulse_, I think.

I look up from that as I hear some sort of commotion ahead, and my eyes immediately meet Katniss's.

The only set of eyes that matter anything to me at all. And ever have.

I stand up, shoving the doctors away as my heart fills with adoration and comfort at the sight of her.

She runs, directly in a bee line, until she's just steps away from me.

I move forward, grab her up into my arms, swinging her around to slow the momentum, and squeeze her tightly, as tight as I can, until her sobbing settles down.

"Peeta," she's breathing, surprised, overwhelmed, "Oh, Peeta."

"I know," I whisper into her hair, refusing to take my arms from her, "I know, it's alright, Katniss."

She laughs, crying while she does it and pulls away to look at me, "I'm so... I'm so..."

I grin at her, lean in and press my lips flush against her own. She doesn't have to say a single word. I'm so overwhelmed myself, kissing is the only thing I think I can do at this point to express how happy and pleased I am.

Katniss kisses back, excited, hands burying themselves in my hair, eyes squeezing shut so tight, because when I open my own to stare at her, I can see that she looks like she's in pain.

At ease now, I break the kiss and press my forehead to her's, "You don't have to explain, Katniss. I know."

She smiles wide, the corners of her mouth nearly reaching her ears and she hugs me again.

* * *

><p>The doctors finish checking me over and release me at last.<p>

Haymitch joins me as we walk, keeping me up to speed on District Thirteen. It's overwhelming after a while and I just raise my hand at last to quiet him.

"Haymitch," I say, head pounding in ache, "I'll listen to it later, I'm exhausted right now. I don't really want to talk about anything."

He grins, nods, and then lets Katniss and I walk alone together.

"Do you want to sleep?" She asks softly, "You're probably tired."

"Not really," I explain, "I slept some there, but I'd really just like to lay down or something, talk with you."

Katniss reaches over and grabs my hand in hers, "We can do that."

We don't really talk much more as we walk though, not until we're down in her quarters, where she pulls me onto the bed with her.

After she's laid down, I plant myself firmly, laying my head in her lap and taking her legs in my arms.

Her hands run through my hair as I stare across to the door.

We're both silent, even then, just laying comfortably with each other. _I'm not tired, honest, _but it's so comfortable, so ideal. _This beats the cold ground or that board bed any day._

Katniss's fingers trace through my hair, line my brows, caress my cheek, and finally she says something first. "They never once showed you, I was so terrified that they'd killed you without ever saying a thing."

I nod, silent, but I should say something.

"I thought they'd at least interview you, make me even more worried that way, show the effect of what they were doing or something, at least something to show me that they were making you feel awful."

"I convinced Snow that you weren't important, that I was the 'Mockingjay'," I explain at last, "I think he might've given me the opportunity to talk on screen, if I hadn't done that. He seemed to want something of the sort. But changed his mind."

Katniss stays silent then, for a while, and then she asks: "I don't know if I want to know what they did to you."

"You might," I respond softly, "First, they were trying to convince me that you were a Mutt."

"What?" She asks in surprise.

I turn my head up from her lap to look into her wide eyes, "They tried to make me think that you were some sort of Mutt, and that you didn't care about me, not really. But it didn't work. They kept trying though, trying to manipulate memories. I got so angry once that I just... I just lost it. I think I killed some of their Peacekeepers, but I can't remember much."

Katniss frowns at this, her eyes watering, "Oh, Peeta."

"How they made me feel about you," I say, sitting up to touch her face, "It... it wasn't right. They did something to me, and it horrified me. I couldn't control myself."

She nods, she thinks she understands but I can't bring myself to explain it. How can I tell her what I'd done?

_I'd... I'd enjoyed it, at first. I'd honestly enjoyed it. How can I tell her that?_

"And the two Avoxes," I start explaining, licking my lips, "I know it was just some ploy to get under my skin, what they did to Darius and Lavinia. I... I don't want to think about it."

She nods again, brushing my cheek and kissing me, "Don't then, you don't have to, just lay down."

I do, I lay down, this time facing her stomach. Her lap is still warm from my head before and I allow my free left arm to trace up her right side.

We're both silent again and I move my hand to smooth over her stomach.

"You're getting bigger."

She laughs softly as I lift her shirt and start to kiss the skin underneath it, her slightly swollen belly, protruding now in an obviously pregnant way.

"No woman has ever looked more beautiful," I find myself saying, wanting to express my adoration, "I can't explain what you look like to me, Katniss. You just look beautiful. And that's too simple."

Pregnancy should always look so healthy, it doesn't look bothered. _She's practically glowing. _Life is growing inside of her. And there's nothing more beautiful then that.

I kiss up her stomach so much that I have to push her shirt over her breasts and she raises her arms to take it off.

_It works for me. _I grab her body and pull her down more, onto the bed completely, her head resting against the pillows instead of her back. I unclasp her bra with my hand firmly pressed against the sheets below her frame and remove it.

"Peeta," she breathes as I lower myself over her.

But as I move to kiss her flesh, an image of what I've been subjected to for the past few days flashes over my mind. Grabbing her body, forcing her, squeezing her chest, despite how fragile and soft they are.

I stop, looking up at her in fear, afraid she's seen it too, but she just looks at me in confusion.

"Why did you stop?" She asks.

I shake my head, trying to clear it and move on.

She lets out another gasp as I bite down softly on her right breast, pulling it between my teeth, running my tongue over it.

Another image flashes this time, as I look up at her from where I am. Instead of moaning, enjoying what I'm doing, she's got tears streaming down her cheeks, and she's upset. She's struggling to stop me.

I can't help the excitement, the adrenaline rush that courses, the tightening in my pants as I imagine her disagreeing with what I'm doing.

This time though, I can't shake the image. I can't stop her from looking like that. I almost... almost don't want to.

I continue being gentle though, taking her other breast in my palm, but it becomes more annoying then anything to pretend that this is what I want. _This isn't what I've wanted, ever. How could anyone find something so simple so exciting?_

She opens her eyes to look at me in horror as I grab her wrists, kiss her so hard that it bruises. She even struggles, she doesn't like it at all. But I do.

I'm annoyed at the buttons on my shirt, so I rip it open instead, the buttons tearing and dropping over the sheets of the bed. I toss the ruined shirt to the ground and drop my hand to her pants to unbutton them.

"Peeta?" She asks in concern.

I ignore her though, remove the pants from her legs, complete with underwear as well, and begin to take off my own.

She's staring up at me in surprise as I push her legs open wide and lower my hips against hers, but it's not nearly... still _not nearly _as exciting as I want it to be._ I have to do something more, I have to really bother her._

I reach my hand up and close it over her neck, _if there's anything that can stop her want from showing, it's attempting to harm her._

She struggles against me finally, hands reaching up, grabbing at my own to try and stop me, to try and breathe. But I tighten my hold.

"Peeta, stop!" Her eyes, wide in fear, and her nails scrape across the skin of my forearm, drawing blood. She's trying to get completely free now, moving her legs, moving her body back against the bed until she knees me in the stomach.

I grab her leg, push it out of the way, but her arms are shoving at my chest, trying to push me away, trying to get free.

"Peeta," She breathes as I let her neck go, she's crying, sobbing, shoving against me, so completely afraid.

But when she tries to get off of the bed to get away from me, I grab her back down and force her underneath me again. _After all of that effort, I'm not going to let her get away._

I struggle against her but she opens her mouth to scream and I can't stop her, so instead, I slam my fist down hard against her cheek to shut her up, and even then she doesn't. So I hit her again. I hit her two more times and she's reduced to only sobbing.

Blood sprayed over the sheets of the bed, her lips busted and bleeding, she struggles, weak and useless against me, legs trying to kick free.

"No," she breathes through the blood I can see between her teeth, "Stop, Peeta. Please, don't do this."

It wasn't rape, not until I made it that way. She would've been completely willing._ But I don't want her willing. I want to see her like this._

Tears stream down her cheeks as she finally gives up.

Now, I'm so excited with the violence, the blood and terror in her eyes, my hearts thumping in my ears, adrenaline racing through my veins. The same feeling I have when I'm in the Arena. It's almost overwhelming. The feelings I had in that room, they're nothing compared to really doing this, not at all.

I start thrusting into her at last, holding her chest down with my right hand, making it difficult to breathe for her, my other hand holding her right leg up, out of the way.

Blood pours from her nose as her hands still claw at my arms to break free, they're useless now though, and I can see that she's not really trying at all anymore. She's out of energy, out of effort. Beaten, broken, and I love it more then anything.

Instead of struggling or screaming, or pleading with me, she just cries now.

And at last, I release inside of her and shove her from me, rolling over on the bed, away from her, and falling asleep to the sounds of her finally breaking into pieces, sobbing so hard that she shakes the bed.

* * *

><p>When I wake up, Katniss is curled close to my chest.<p>

Her fingers move in lazy circles over my nipples, she looks asleep; with her eyes closed, but the soft smile on her lips suggests otherwise.

"Good morning," she says, smiling wide, lifting her body up and kissing me, her large breasts press firmly against my chest.

I stop though and sit up to get away from her.

"Peeta?" she asks, confused, "Is something wrong?"

I look at the bed, at the sheets, and there's no blood on it from her nose the night before, I stand up, looking around the room.

My shirt, on the floor, still has all of it's buttons intact.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I didn't put Darius and Lavinia being tortured in, mostly because I didn't feel like repeating myself.

If you haven't seen it tho, and don't read Option A, go on back over there and read that part. It's basically, more or less what happens in Option B as well.

I just didn't want to have to throw that in again.

Oh and... reviews are VERY much loved. ^^ See you Wednesday!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	11. Chapter 3 OPTC: Avoiding the Problem

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Tomorrow's my birthday. Yay.

Not so much, but bah, that's meh, can't wait to have it done and over with.

And then HP, can't wait fer that most.

I'm not really in the mood to stay around and blather today, my throat is feeling awful because I spent the past two days talking to TristAn, Mr. Fiancé about my real book/Trilogy. I've been talking a LOT about it with him. And I don't feel good. But I managed to, at least and always, get this out fer you guys.

Enjoy, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi, be healthy, and I'll see you again Saturday fer Option D. Love you all!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Sam: "Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright? Ah, great song, if that's the one yer talking about, I imagine it is. Tho the chances of you listening to a cover, or another version, is entirely expected, the lyrics are the same. Gosh, that IS tragic. O.o . There's a lot in store for poor Peeta, each Option really does have their own sort of tragedy going on atm. They're only going to get more complicated as things progress. Glad yer still here and enjoying, and thanks fer the lovely review!"

No name review of Chapter 11: "A lot of people ask what yaoi is. And I don't ever really answer. It's a phrase I've said since the dawn of my fanfic writing, the werd exists and is most commonly said at anime conventions. XP I didn't make it up, I just carried it in my Author's Notes. And you mean the rape scene in B, right? I don't think it's particularly sick that you found it hot, but at the same time, I can't really express my own thoughts on it. O.o I'd honestly LOVE more reviews. It's a shame they don't all review or show some sign of their existence, but bah, I see the views, that's nice enough. At least I have that. And you like Peeta x Prim? That's new, what is that? Perim? Peerim sounds weird. I like Perim, though it's like... Perineum, _snerk_. Preeta? LAWL Hmm, I don't particularly ship that, or promote it in this fic, but there's some Peeta/Prim stuff in this chapter. Nothing shippy, but adorable enough? Enjoy anyways and thinks fer sharing yer guilty pleasures! "

JennaGill (who doesn't accept responses the easy way XP): "Ah, yer totally welcome! Glad you enjoy it!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Is it too late to remind you how we were.

But not our last days of silence, screaming, blur.

Most of what I remember makes me sure,

I should've stopped you from walking out the door.

You could be happy, I hope you are.

You made me happier than I'd been by far.

Somehow everything I own smells of you,

And for the tiniest moment it's all not true.

Do the things that you always wanted to.

Without me there to hold you back, don't think, just do.

More than anything I want to see you, girl,

Take a glorious bite out of the whole world.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - Avoiding the Problem<strong>

* * *

><p>Saving Katniss, only to loose her. What must that feel like?<p>

This.

It feels exactly like this.

Watching her stare at Gale... like he's the one she's loved all along. It's the most painful thing I think I'll ever have to endure.

Even the Peacekeepers of Thirteen, standing around us, know that something's seriously wrong.

They're nervous, shifting from foot to foot while Gale, who's giving me these uncomfortable glances, is very unsure of how to deal with the current situation.

Once we're out of there and inside of the hovercraft, with both Katniss and Annie, Katniss takes the seat by Gale, ignoring me completely, and staring up into the eyes of the only man in her life anymore.

I can't even begin to explain where my head's at. I don't know what to do. _Should I tell her about me? Or... she looks so happy._

I don't want to bother that look. I don't want to worry her or make her upset. She's happy.

_The best I can do now is wait it out. Leave her alone, and see what happens then. If she moves on with Gale... I have to be happy with that._

For now, I can just concentrate on the things at hand that need to be done.

"He looks upset," she says to Gale, who turns to me and our eyes meet once again.

I try, as discrete as possible, to shake my head.

I think he understands, or doesn't care, either way he turns back to Katniss and they begin talking about wanting to go out hunting together.

Eventually, I just shift differently, fold one leg over the other, cross my arms over my chest, and try to drift for now. Try to put my mind at some sort of ease to deal with what's going on.

The hovercraft touches down and I join the Peacekeepers that take Katniss in to see our Doctors.

She keeps saying: "I'm fine, I don't need to be examined. I'm fine."

I watch after her. Originally, I plan to follow, but then decide that it's probably best to just leave her alone for now. She's in safe hands. And she wouldn't understand what I was doing there, if I stayed.

Boggs joins my side while I walk towards the elevator, "You're not going to go see what's wrong with her?"

I look at him as I walk in and push the button to go down into the sleeping quarters, "It's no longer my business."

I see his face sadden just as the doors close and then I'm alone.

* * *

><p>Things settle down after that.<p>

I see Katniss on enough of an occasion that I know it's too much. Gale has slid easily into the role cast for me and he hasn't said a thing since the odd looks in the hovercraft.

Katniss, completely clueless, has probably forgotten I even existed when we rescued her.

Her mother and Prim, however, find it harder to ignore me like she has.

Prim constantly tries to visit me, tries to talk me into speaking with her sister. But I don't want to get in the way.

I can clearly see, from a distance, that she's as happy as I could've made her.

Like this, maybe she can't remember the true horrors that her and I went through in the arenas together. And maybe that's for the better too.

_The memories of it will die with me alone, if they have to._

I try my hardest to stay as concentrated on the war effort, instead. Though I'm the second in command, or whatever, Boggs knows not to push anything on me. And I'm young, so he just leaves me to being tutored and taught about tactics and war on my own.

I wouldn't mind it so much if I had something more to think about, something that can ease me into not thinking about her anymore.

When I broach the subject with Boggs, he simply says that he's been on it. He's scheduled an interview for me, something to help strengthen the rebellion in the Districts.

"People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"

Plutarch grins wide in amazement and starts clapping wildly with the rest of the team.

The cameraman gives me a thumbs up and I join the prep team to get me cleaned up. Not my prep team, but that's of little or no importance to anyone but me. They're still in the Capitol, still in danger, still able to be taken from me at any given moment.

The new prep team isn't as good, or nearly as comfortable as my own, but they get done what needs to be done. Cleaning my body of any fake ash or smear, dressing me up proper, and bringing me back out for the initial interview.

* * *

><p>I'm seated and Cressida begins the questions.<p>

"What was it like bringing Katniss out of the Capitol?"

"Katniss's safety is the only thing that has mattered to me for a long time," I explain, "I find that, since she's as safe as she can get for now, both the rebellion, and I, can move forward and make more progress in the Districts. It was relieving to see here practically unharmed. And her presence here, in any form, is very uplifting. I'm relieved most that she can smile as equally now as she could in the beginning. She is just as able as I am."

Cressida, smiling wide at my response, asks the next question: "Not many of the people of the Districts know the whole truth about you and Katniss. Had you ever talked to her before you were both reaped?"

"Not talked," I answer softly, "No, we didn't talk. But I gave her some bread. Katniss was a girl from the Seam and, after her father passed away, I can only imagine what she had to go through to procure necessities and food for her family. I was eleven, and she was starving. My family, though not nearly as poor, couldn't afford at all to take care of another child, but I did what I could to help her that day. She was cold, wet, soaked to the bone. Starving. So I burnt some of our most healthy, most costly bread. All it really was to me was punishment, but it meant survival to her. And that was the only thing I was thinking about at the time. I took it out to her, behind my mother's back, and let her leave with it."

"You two have been through a lot together," Cressida says, smiling broad still.

"We have," I say, trying to hold back my emotions, "Katniss has always been a dear friend of mine. Friend, only. But that's all we ever were. It feels–" I force the words from my mouth, like I truly mean them, "–good, not to have to pretend that we're some couple anymore. Now she can be with Gale, and I can move on as well."

Cressida looks completely surprised by this change of events and tries to continue on to her best ability, "So you and Katniss worked together to convince President Snow that you were in love, in order to save the both of you, the first time?"

"Yes, Katniss and I were hardly friends beforehand, but the friendship grew over time," I pretend, "We never loved each other like that. But after we won together, we had to continue 'being a couple' for the tons of audience watching us. It wasn't easy, but we did what we had to do."

"Do you have any last words for Snow himself?"

"I do," I respond, looking into the camera, "You think you've weakened me. But you haven't. And the only fool in the end will be you. You've only made Katniss and I more strong then we were before, I hope you know that. I'm helping to lead the rebels in this war and I won't stop until we're all free from you."

The interview concludes, just like that, and Haymitch takes a seat beside me as the team starts cleaning up their equipment.

"Convincing," Haymitch says, "You've never had a problem selling lies, Peeta."

"Save it," I say, standing up.

Haymitch grabs my wrist to stop me, "Peeta–"

"What do you want me to say?" I ask, turning to him as my eyes start to water. The emotions I've been fighting off all day are starting to break through, "What do you want me to say, Haymitch? Because whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be convincing enough."

I yank my arm from his grasp and start away again.

"Peeta," he says, loud enough for me to hear, "She **does **remember you."

I stop, give him one more look before I say: "No, she doesn't, Haymitch. Believe that. It's the truth."

His look of defeat is almost overwhelming as I finally leave the staged area and go immediately to lunch.

I take a seat far enough away from others, but it's not obvious enough, because within seconds both Johanna Mason and Haymitch's drinking buddy Chaff join my table.

Johanna, watching me in surprise, leans over and asks: "What the hell is she doing fawning over Gale?"

I look up from my lunch and then over to where she's motioning me to look.

Katniss, looking unusually enthusiastic, has the right side of her body pressed firmly to the left side of Gale's.

I shrug.

Johanna looks furious, "I know I've been out of it for a while, but Katniss came back at just the same time I did. What the hell happened in that time span?"

"It doesn't matter."

Chaff shakes his head, "I didn't expect you to be this depressing to be around."

"He's not," Johanna snaps, "You're not," she says, looking back to me now, "Peeta, what–"

"She doesn't remember me," I say, low enough that Katniss won't hear, because she's looking over here now, "I'm tired of wallowing and being so sad and whiny. So don't ask about it again, and leave her alone. Don't remind her."

The last part, louder then before, has Katniss staring directly at me.

I stand up and toss the rest of my food out before I return to my sleeping quarters. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't cry myself into an uncomfortable position against the far corner of the room. But I did.

_I'll get it out now, and I won't do anymore of this after today._

* * *

><p>The next day we show the clips of my interview over Panem, my amazing one liner and the fury of the Capitol is obvious when Snow comes on for a moment, saying his last few words before the broadcast ends.<p>

I turn to Boggs, "We need to get to safety."

"What–" He starts to ask.

"They're going to be coming for us," I say, speaking quickly and calmly, "Do it, now. Boggs. Tell me you've prepared for some sort of bombing, something more serious, or–"

"Alright," he says, putting his hand on my shoulder, "We'll arrange for a Level Five security drill."

I turn to Haymitch as the alarms start throughout the rooms and halls, "I'm going to get Prim, can you be sure that Katniss's mother makes it through?"

He starts to give me a look, but I shake my head.

"She's like a sister to me, Haymitch," I say, "Don't argue, please."

I leave him behind and head immediately towards the wards, down a set of stairs, past the mob of people coming through, thinning as I walk on. I'm in such a rush at this point that Prim nearly runs right into me when I round a corner.

"Hey," I grab out at her arm as she looks panicked, "Where are you going?"

"Buttercup, I can't leave him," She's practically in tears, "Peeta."

"You go," I tell her, pointing to the stairs I just came from, "I'll get Buttercup, you have my word. But you should go."

"Peeta–"

"Go, Prim," I shout to her, startling her into moving, "Go with them all, Katniss will be worried if you don't. Think of your mother, go."

She nods finally and starts walking away from me, nervous and afraid, giving a worried last glance.

I turn and run immediately to their quarters as fast as I can.

The doors open and Buttercup nearly attacks me in surprise, he's been meowing wildly in the closed room and I scoop him up into my arms, "Hold on a second, boy, and we'll be right out of here."

I gather up as many of Katniss's things as I can, her hunting bag, a few things that I know are more than important, and shove them under my arm before I bolt.

The door opens suddenly and Gale is standing there, stopping in surprise to stare at me.

"Gale?"

"Yeah," he says, looking around the room, "What the hell are you doing here?"

I hand over buttercup, the bag, and stuff to him, "Take them, Katniss will want them." I rush past him before he can say anymore and we run down through the halls, following marked walls until we reach the last doorway.

Katniss, standing there, waiting and panicking with Prim, gasps in relief when we reach them. _When Gale reaches them._

I walk past and into the 'new home' and Boggs gives me a look that says _'cutting it a little close, aren't you?'_

Prim walks up behind me, clearing her throat to get attention as I gather my own goods and make to my bunker, "Thank you," she says softly, then takes the odd step to get closer, and hugs me, "Thank you, Peeta, for getting Buttercup for me."

I grin and hug her back, "Any time, Little Duck, you know I'll do anything for you."

She nods, squeezing tight, "I'm sorry about all of the mess that's going on, about Katniss and Gale, and the stupid amnesia."

I look up from the hug then and see Katniss staring at us in confusion. Prim spoke soft enough, so Katniss clearly hadn't heard her. I can be grateful for that.

"You should go," I say softly, patting her hair, "Go be with your family, Prim."

"You're family," she says, but she pulls away just the same, "Even more since... I know what you're trying to do for Katniss."

I turn away and prepare my bed for sleep, laying down in it and relaxing. The panicked speech around me blurs out as I rest and close my eyes.

Finally the bombs start to fall, and the sigh of relief in my mind that_ I'm a genius to be so paranoid _isn't as comforting as I'd like it to be.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Feel free to take the time and drop in a short review or anything. All is loved. See you all in three days! Enjoy Harry Potter 7 Part 2!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	12. Chapter 3 OPTD: One Thing is Missing

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option D<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Wonder if anyone noticed I missed a day. I didn't, until this morning. O.o

Gah, this was suppose to be out yesterday.

Crazy shit happened tho, busy as hell. I wrote most of this, actually, while I was in the DMV waiting to renew my ID; on my BIRTHDAY.

Fortunately, they accidentally called me 20 people early. XP

Yeah, I was stuck in the DMV fer like an hour and a half? And then I had to go to this stupid three and a half hour meeting thing in which I learned... nothing.

Then my birthday happened, which was the werst. WERST experience of my whole life, like ever.

I'd rather have skewered my hand with an exacto-knife (like I've done before) over and over again, before living my birthday over. That's saying something.

Ugh, it was a mess.

But the 15th was fun. Went and saw HP, and it was fucking awesome. I won't spoil it fer anyone, but go and see it, and gasm at the greatness. It's good stuff. Love Draco. Nom.

Also, after we got out, there was a blood mobile there, and they were giving out HP shirts fer it, and my sister donated fer me and got me one. Cuz I hate needles. O.O

Other then that, I went over to Will's because it was Friday, and we watched Dexter.

Ugh, this whole week has been a mess. And I've got so much more to do.

Thankfully tho, I'll have time to write. ^^ Thank you all fer waiting.

Please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Sam: "Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright? Ah, great song, if that's the one yer talking about, I imagine it is. Tho the chances of you listening to a cover, or another version, is entirely expected, the lyrics are the same. Gosh, that IS tragic. O.o . There's a lot in store for poor Peeta, each Option really does have their own sort of tragedy going on atm. They're only going to get more complicated as things progress. Glad yer still here and enjoying, and thanks fer the lovely review!"

No name review of Chapter 11: "A lot of people ask what yaoi is. And I don't ever really answer. It's a phrase I've said since the dawn of my fanfic writing, the werd exists and is most commonly said at anime conventions. XP I didn't make it up, I just carried it in my Author's Notes. And you mean the rape scene in B, right? I don't think it's particularly sick that you found it hot, but at the same time, I can't really express my own thoughts on it. O.o I'd honestly LOVE more reviews. It's a shame they don't all review or show some sign of their existence, but bah, I see the views, that's nice enough. At least I have that. And you like Peeta x Prim? That's new, what is that? Perim? Peerim sounds weird. I like Perim, though it's like... Perineum, _snerk_. Preeta? LAWL Hmm, I don't particularly ship that, or promote it in this fic, but there's some Peeta/Prim stuff in this chapter. Nothing shippy, but adorable enough? Enjoy anyways and thinks fer sharing yer guilty pleasures! "

JennaGill (who doesn't accept responses the easy way XP): "Ah, yer totally welcome! Glad you enjoy it!"

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I'd wait on you forever and a day.

Hand and foot.

Your world is my world.

Your lips, my biggest weakness.

Shouldn't have let you know.

I'm always gonna do what they say.

If you need me, I'll come runnin'

From a thousand miles away.

When you smile I smile

Baby, take my open heart, and all it offers.

Cause this is as unconditional as it'll ever get.

You ain't seen nothing yet.

I won't ever hesitate to give you more.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - One Thing is Missing<strong>

* * *

><p>"He must be furious."<p>

"I don't think _furious _is quite the word," Katniss says from my side, "Especially considering he's been furious since we both won the first Games. He's at least livid now."

I chew the bread from my plate slowly, though it's not like home, there's nothing I can appreciate more then bread at this moment. A strong comfort in times like this.

"Livid," I agree.

"I don't entirely understand why he bombed Twelve, only to take my family away," she wonders softly, "I mean, what's to gain, killing your family and not mine?"

"It's not obvious?" I ask.

Katniss looks at me and shakes her head, "No. What am I missing?"

I turn to her then, "Snow's always had a soft spot for you, Katniss. You're the Mockingjay. You don't think he's going to take that personal?"

She frowns, "Well, what's worse then death? Then never seeing them again?"

"We already thought we were never going to see them again," I explain more, "I certainly felt that way, didn't you?"

"Well, yes–"

"That's it then," I confirm, "Snow wants to know you're suffering, watching them be tortured, or well... Not watching them. But you know, thinking, imagining."

Katniss nods and looks down to her plate, "I guess I didn't think of it that way."

"He wants to hurt you the best way he knows how."

"He should've caught you then," she replies back, handing me her bread, "I can't imagine what I'd be like without you here."

"Mad?" I joke, "What's this for?"

"I know how much you like the bread," Katniss says, smiling wide, "I'm just going to puke it up, anyways. What a waste that would be. You can appreciate it more."

"You need to eat."

She raises a brow and looks at my plate, "Give me some of your chicken then."

I grab up the leg and tear a thick enough piece of meat from it, handing it over to her, "Alright, I know how much you like the skin."

Her grin sets as she starts to eat, and I begin to tear into the bread she's given me.

"We should go out hunting," I say then, watching her eat, "Bring back some squirrel or something."

"Tomorrow," Katniss says, "We've got to go to Twelve today–"

"We can't hunt a bit while we're there?" I ask, finishing my food up, "Back in your favorite hunting grounds? I wouldn't mind."

"We can grab the bows, too," Katniss nods in agreement, "Alright. We'll hunt."

* * *

><p>"Look at you," she pokes my shoulder as we walk back to the Victor's Village, "Mister Fancy Shot."<p>

"My 'fancy shot' is nothing compared to you–"

"It was lucky as hell," she corrects me, laughing, "I've rarely taken down a deer before."

I shrug, helping her over the fence, "Sure, but you've done it before. I couldn't bare to do anything else but watch you."

Katniss drops down into my arms and I begin to carry her, "Hey, what do I look like? A bag of flour?"

"Not yet," I say and she smacks the top of my head, "Should we bring the bows back with us?"

"Well, I can't imagine we're going to be hunting in Twelve again, so, why not?"

"And they're your father's."

"That too," She agrees.

I finally let her down as we reach our houses, "Do you want to go in first, or should I?"

"I'll go," She says, taking my hand in hers and leading me up the steps to her newest of old homes. She pushes open the door and walks in.

I follow after her and stare around the hallway. It honestly looks exactly how I remembered it, but not. The lights out, the hallway cold, the lack of life in the living room. The fireplace out, dead.

Without Prim and Katniss's mother here, the place feels like it's never had a single soul in it, ever before.

But the most morbid fact of all is that the characteristics that have been left behind by them still remain. Their coats, lined up by the door, the shoes sitting neatly in the exiting closet. The few pictures they had still remain on the walls.

The house smells like fire and ash, burnt homes, even though the Victor's Village wasn't hit. It's carried the smell with it.

"They didn't have time to grab anything," Katniss says as we walk into the kitchen, "They didn't even take their jackets."

I nod silently, following just behind her with my hand rested on her lower back for comfort.

"What room were they taken in?" She asks, and even though I don't know what the answer is, I struggle to guess.

"Maybe they were watching the screen?"

Katniss looks at me and then rushes into the living room. We'd visited quickly, but now that we round the couch, we can see the obvious signs of struggle.

There's a tray of old cookies spread across the rug, bits ground in by feet and shoes, smeared into the cream color over the ground. The couch itself has been pushed back just slightly and you can see when it dragged some of the ground with it, ruffling up the carpet.

Katniss reaches out and touches a torn piece of cloth sitting on the left side of the couch cushion.

"My mother's shirt," she says as she fingers it, tears filling her eyes.

She's much too emotional for this.

I bend down and grab her elbows, standing her up and looking into her eyes.

"Katniss," I say softly as she clutches the cloth tight, "You know your mother survived the struggle, but we need to be quick enough here so that we don't join them. So that we can still help them from out here. If we get caught, if we take too long, we'll be no good to your mother and Prim."

She nods and wipes the tears from her cheek, "Alright, I know. You're... you're right, Peeta. Let's go up stairs."

I grab her into a hug then, rub her back soothingly until she pulls away and we walk up to her room.

We're only there for a breath because Katniss panics when she sees the single soft, white rose that Snow has left behind for her.

At once, she grabs her jacket from the room, her game bag from the front closet, and we exit the house all together.

I'm helping her down the steps when a meow reaches my ear. I turn, startled, and stare in surprise when I see Buttercup.

"How on Earth..." Katniss starts, but she rushes forward and scoops the cat up into her hunting bag.

"Katniss," I say, watching Buttercup hiss angrily. I stop though, thinking of Prim, and nod, "Alright. It's a good thing we requested to change things should the opportunity present itself. It looks like It has. There's no way they'd let you keep him if you weren't the Mockingjay."

Katniss nods in agreement, "If they won't let me then they don't have me, do they?"

"No," I say, scratching behind Buttercup's ears, "They don't."

* * *

><p>In District 13, we're moved to a new room, specifically ideal for Buttercup, since it has a window for him to exit out of, should he be pleased to do so.<p>

Any concerns we could've had, with bringing him in, are immediately refunded before we have the chance to consider them. He proves to be nearly invisible whenever Katniss and I are in the room together.

Katniss seems more at ease though, knowing that he's safe and an expected presence during the night time.

During the day, it's an often struggle to find enough interest in keeping to the expected schedule that the people of District Thirteen have given me.

Leaving Katniss to go into Ward procedures to check on our child, having to go into meetings during those times becomes an immediate stress on my patience. So much that, eventually, I just ignore them entirely.

I go with her nearly the fifth time, and am immediately stopped at the doors.

"Coin would like to see you, Peeta Mellark, right this moment," the Peacekeeper says, blocking my way.

"Coin," I start, "Isn't my main concern. My wife is, and my child is."

"I'm sorry," the man says, pushing me back, "but this is mandatory. Your wife will be fine. But you are required to come with me."

I look at him, stare into his eyes before asking: "Have you ever had a child?"

He stops pushing me and then shakes his head, "No."

"Then, when you do, you can stop me from going in there with her," I say.

He starts to grab my shirt but I back up from him.

"My only purpose in life, my only duty, is to my family. My wife and my unborn child. There is nothing more important than that. If Coin wants to talk to me, she'll do it on _my _time, and not during one of my Wife's checkups. I'm sure she knows the schedule as well as I do, if not better. But she needs to learn that I'm not the kind of person to deny Katniss of anything. And nothing gets in the way of that, **nothing at all**."

The Peacekeeper drops his arm and stares at me. I can see that, with little wording, I've won him over completely.

He nods in understanding and agreement.

"Go ahead and tell her that she might want to change my schedule as well," I continue on, "Because I'm going to keep missing things to be with Katniss, every step of the way. I'm only agreeing to be a part in this war for her safety. And if she's not safe _during it_, then what's the point _afterwards_?"

Katniss, still standing at the door watching me, smiles apologetically when I leave the Peacekeeper out in the hall to be with her.

"I'm getting tired of being treated like some sort of cattle," I comment and help her onto the bed.

She grabs my hand in hers and squeezes it, "I think they get the idea now."

"They should've gotten it from the beginning, I think it was obvious, common sense."

"Common sense isn't common," Katniss says, smirking at me as the Doctor begins to examine her stomach.

* * *

><p>After Katniss is cleared, we decide to visit Finnick before we leave the Wards.<p>

He's sitting in his bed as usual, tying knots and mumbling nonsense. Barely able to keep his mind on one track.

I didn't know Finnick well, neither did Katniss, but it hurts to see him like this.

When we leave him there, I can't help feeling like I have to do something to help the guy out. He's miserable, nearly insane.

"Because of Annie," Katniss whispers to me as we walk down the hall, "Poor Finnick is completely done without her."

"She should be here," I find myself saying aloud before I have time to think it over.

"What?" Katniss asks in surprise.

"Annie," I say, "We need Finnick, and if it were me... Well, I don't know what I'd do if it were me in his situation. I'd probably be completely unhinged. And we need his help. He's a good fighter. And poor Annie, she's hardly intact with real life as it is. We can't just leave her in there. We have to do something."

"What do you suggest?" Katniss asks as we reach our room.

I shrug, "Get her out. It's the only thing we can' do. I don't know why we're not trying to right now. If it were you, that would be first priority. I can't let Finnick suffer. If I were in his place, I wouldn't want him leaving me like that."

Katniss takes my hands and kisses me, pulling me close to hug tightly, "Have I ever told you that you're amazing?"

I laugh at that, cup her cheek and kiss her deeper, tongue running over her bottom lip.

She lets out a breath, opening her mouth.

My hands wander around her waist, grabbing onto the back of her shirt to pull her close when there's a sudden knock on the door.

Cheeks flushed as red as only I can imagine, I break from the kiss and move to the door to open it.

Haymitch is on the other side and he raises a brow at my state, "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes," I respond, unable to hide it anyways.

He grins and motions to me, "You need to come and talk to Coin, Peeta. She's completely furious with you at this point."

"I can imagine."

"This isn't a game kid–"

"Don't you think I'm aware of that, Haymitch," I say, leaning against the side of the door, "I'm on my way to being a father, I'm fully aware of every form of circumstance right now. You know me better than that."

"I do," he says, sighing, "But you're acting–"

I raise my brow.

"You're acting more defiant than I'm comfortable with," Haymitch says finally looking beyond the door, behind me, "Coin already can't stand either of you two, it's not wise to act so rash and disrespectful when they brought you in and are feeding you."

"And treating us like animals," I respond, "she needs to treat us like humans before I can be grateful for anything she does."

Haymitch sighs again, "She wants to talk to you."

"Then she can talk to us both, I imagine that won't be too hard for her to do."

He nods and backs from the entrance of the door, "Alright, if you can agree to that, then I think we can all get along better."

Katniss is tucking her shirt back in when I turn to her.

"You and I have a meeting to go to."

She gives me an exasperated look before taking my hand and dragging me out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Reviews are loved! See you on Wednesday fer Chapter 4, Option A!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	13. Chapter 4 OPTA: Mutt

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hey hey, everyone. This is one of the chapters I've been waiting the most to write. I hope you all enjoy it.

Shit's gonna go down.

Oh and uh, if you haven't seen the new **ANIMATED POSTER**, the official one, fer the Hunger Games movie, go check it out now. I linked it on my twitter if you want fer easy access. Just KaKaVegeGurl, on twitter. It's pretty epic, gave me goosebumps.

I don't rly have much to say more then that, just... enjoy, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi, and don't ferget to review! Love you all, see you Saturday!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Call all your friends,

Tell them I'm never coming back.

'Cause this is the end.

Pretend that you want it, don't react.

The damage is done.

The police are coming, too slow now.

I would have died.

I would have loved you all my life.

You're losing your memory now.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Mutt<strong>

* * *

><p>Darius's screams finally become so overwhelming that I grab at my ears, attempt to cover them so that I can't hear him. But the chains pull tight and stop me.<p>

He's writhing, legs thrashing as I hear the blade cutting into his hand, blood dripping down onto the floor and I see the pieces... the flesh, rolling free on the ground around him.

It's at this point that I can't tear my eyes from him, the feeling of dread and fear overwhelming me, Katniss's voice in my head.

"Mutt," she's always whispering at me, "You hate me. You hate that I'm a mutt. Poor Peeta, how does it feel to watch someone be tortured for you?"

She keeps whispering these things to me, the vision of her from the cave in the arena, of helping me from the mud and cleaning my cut.

By the time the Peacekeepers leave, I'm so driven out of it that I can't pull myself back.

My arms shake against the chains, fatigued, worn out, wrists so raw that they bleed. But it's nothing compared to Darius.

He's seated up, staring down at his hands, eyes wide, his entire body shaking violently as the blood pours out, squirts in some places, coating the ground before him, covering his clothes.

I can't tell what parts he's missing now.

I can't see anything past the blood, I know that some are left but he's shaking so bad, trying to hide them from his eyes so that he can forget which ones are still attached.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to him, it's more of a whimper though as the sobs wrack my body, "I'm so sorry, Darius."

He's just breathing out oddly, unable to say anything if he even wanted.

I reach out to him again, one last time, "Listen to me, Darius. Listen, listen..."

His eyes wonder over the pool of blood on his lap.

"Are you listening?" I ask, teeth chattering together as I shiver.

He swallows, finally looking up to me and I think it's a nod, but he's shivering just as violently as me still.

"I'll get them," I whisper to him, "I'm going to see their end, I promise you."

The tears on his cheeks thicken as he cries silently, but I think he nods again.

"I'm sorry for everything they've done to you, but they won't live with it, not for long," I say, "Just like Lavinia, I won't forget either of you, no matter what, I promise."

He pulls his knees to his chest as he cries, his body shuddering weakly.

I watch him for some time, continue to say things to him to try and comfort the blood loss and pain he feels.

I comfort him... until his body is as limp as Lavinia's.

Finally, the Peacekeepers come in and hoist me up, releasing me from my chains, dragging me from the room, from the two bodies laying there.

I can't get the sounds out of my mind.

The Peacekeepers, walking silently with me, take me into my room to shower and dress. I do, despite the discomfort I have in this place. The idea that they've killed two people, without a care or a second thought.

I can't bare the idea that I'm standing here healthy, showering, smelling fresh and new, dressing in soft cotton, and Darius and Lavinia's bodies are still in that room.

That the blood will eventually dry on the floor underneath him. And there's no way of removing the stain they both will leave behind. _Whether mental or physical, that stain will be in that room forever._

_And if no one else knows about it, I will._

* * *

><p>The dinner table is unusually quiet.<p>

Snow, sipping his wine and watching me with his stupid little smirk.

I can't stop my hands from shaking against the table cloth, I can barely get the food into my mouth without wanting to puke.

The smell, no matter how comforting it use to be, of bread, and mashed potatoes, and chicken... gravy, other sauces, sweet cookies. It all makes me want to throw up.

I eat though, in spite of it.

And Snow sits there, still and satisfied as always.

He must know how bothered I am, because he doesn't try to say a thing.

Not a word to annoy me, not even a cough or anything of the like, to clear his throat, or scratch an itch.

He just eats in front of me.

_That's bad enough._

* * *

><p>When I'm alone at last, I can't bare to think about the things that transpired over the past day.<p>

Darius, screaming until he died, staring down at the unattached fingers and toes. No one should have to die that way. No one deserves that kind of torture.

Lavinia, being shocked to death days before, her body putrid, becoming more so every second it sat, leaking... Untouched. Not even bothered by the Peacekeepers minding to Darius.

I don't have much time to dwell over the whole of it before they inject me again, and I'm left laying in the bed as Katniss talks to me, as the visions confuse, blur, and change before me. I can't even bother to fight it anymore.

_What's the use?_

_What will be left of me when they're done?_

_I'll be just like Lavinia and Darius. Empty. A shell._

What's the use of fighting the inevitable anymore? There's no chance I'll be saved, not even a moment when I can imagine that someone will come in and release me from this hell.

_Time means nothing anymore._

_Nothing means anything to me... anymore._

There's nothing left inside of me but revenge. And there's only one person that's to fault for all of this.

_That disgusting mutt._

It's her fault that any of this has happened.

She's to blame for the berries, for Darius and Lavinia. And more then anything, for me.

It's her fault that any of us are stuck in this situation.

_She's to blame._

I've been locked in this room now for hours, I can't even tell what time of day it is. I can't remember the last things I've said to anyone, but my throat is so raw that it hurts to swallow.

There's an odd sound, building in my ear, and I can't figure out what it is until the door opens and the people walk in._ Footsteps._

My name is said, I think.

But that's all I hear before the smoke from some sort of gas can blows over my nose.

* * *

><p>When I open my eyes again, all I can see is a bright blinding light. Concerned, I shake my head to blink and clear my vision.<p>

I can feel an odd sort of tingle on my wrist and look down as the doctor holds his fingers to the inside, feeling my pulse. Checking my heartbeat.

Water, tears, filling my eyes as I look around and my eyes land on Katniss Everdeen as she runs towards me.

Immediately, fear and anger at her course through my body.

This is the first time I've seen her since she got me caught,_ since she betrayed me._

_That bitch. That mutt._

I stand up, shoving the doctors out of my way and rushing forward at her. Before she can get her hands on me, probably intended to trick me again, I wrap my fingers around her throat and squeeze tightly.

She's surprised, unsuspecting of what I'm doing.

I grab her close, victory nearly in my grasp before there's a sharp pain in the back of my head, and I'm knocked out again.

* * *

><p>I'm furious when I wake up the third time, mostly because someone's stopped me from taking out that horrible mutt.<p>

And when I try to sit up, I find that I've been strapped down to a bed.

A quick look around tells me that Katniss isn't here, and I have to force myself to calm down as one of the doctors talking to a group comes over to check on me.

"Peeta," he addresses me, "How are you feeling?"

"Annoyed," I respond, struggling against the bindings on my wrists, "Why am I strapped down? Where am I?"

"You're in District Thirteen, Peeta. And you're strapped down for the safety of both you and others, for the time being," He smiles wryly and I glare up at him.

"I don't have a problem," I say, "I don't have a problem."

The doctor checks my eyes, blinding them with a flashlight, and then shakes his head. "You attacked someone. You've been under a lot of stress lately, Peeta. It's important that we take whatever measures we think will help you the best."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone."

He shakes his head, "Maybe, maybe not, but we're not about to take that risk now that it's become a reality. You have a lot of tracker jacker venom in your system right now. It's best to keep you down until your body has taken care of it."

"Tracker jacker venom?" I ask, my head lulling to the side to look at the wall nearby, "I knew that's what it was."

"How do you feel physically?" The doctor asks as he holds his hand to my head.

"Awful," I respond honestly again, "My head is pounding. My whole body hurts."

He looks into my eyes, surprised, and wipes a bead of sweat from my cheek, "I'll say, you're burning up."

His words, near the end... _Start to... Smear._

* * *

><p>For the fourth time, I wake up, and I'm still strapped down to the bed.<p>

The only difference from before is that now I'm completely soaked in sweat, the bed below me is damp against my back.

"Peeta?"

I roll my head around to look at the doctor from before.

He smiles when my eyes meet his, "You had us worried," he helps me to sit up, "We're going to shower you, and then you can eat. Alright?"

I nod numbly as he helps me stand.

The group of doctors behind him grab for my arms to hold me steadily up, and together they walk me into the bathroom.

I don't even need to do a thing as they strip me, but the second one of them let's go of my shoulders, I start to lean forward, unable to control my muscles.

They scrub me down, shower me with warm water, and I'm barely conscious for any of it. I hardly register them helping me dress and bringing me back into the room we came from.

There are others there that have changed the bed while I showered and they help to get me up on it and bring me something to eat.

It's a balanced meal, but I can't help worshiping every bite of it. The meat nearly melts in my mouth, the bread is fresh and warm. I eat rushed, trying to slow enough to chew,_ but I'm starving._

"We have someone coming in today," the doctor says softly as I eat, "She's going to talk to you, are you alright with that?"

I look at him and shrug, "I guess."

I finish eating and they help to lay me back down, putting my wrists in the bindings again.

After they leave the room, I can't help glancing around, looking the room over and at the mirror on the other side. I can't help feeling like some sort of mental patient.

My heart beat finally calms down as nothing more happens.

I'm alone maybe twelve, thirteen minutes before the door opens, startling me from relaxation.

I turn to it, heart racing again but pause when I see the blond curly hair.

"Peeta?" She whispers softly, walking over the tiled floor to stand next to the bed, smiling down at me, "It's Delly. From home."

"Delly? Delly," I say, calming down again. _Delly Cartwright. _"It's you."

She reaches out and rests her hands on the side of the bed, "Yes! How do you feel?"

"Awful," I answer, watching her expressions close as I try to breathe evenly, "Where are we? What's happened?"

"Well," she starts, watching me back, "We're in District Thirteen. We live here now."

My stomach lurches in concern, "That's what those people have been saying. But it makes no sense. Why aren't we home?"

I watch the expression on her face change, she looks... _nervous._

"There was... an accident," she struggles with the words, "I miss home badly, too. I was only just thinking about those chalk drawings we use to do on the paving stones. Yours were so wonderful," she smiles then, and I feel her fingers splay out on the bed sheet by my right elbow, "Remember when you made each one a different animal?"

"Yeah," I whisper, remembering all of it very clearly, "Pigs and cats and things."

But I can tell that she's avoiding everything I want to talk about. _She can't say things without explaining more. An accident? In twelve?_

"You said," I squeeze my hand into a tight fist, controlling my breathing, "About an accident?"

"It was bad. No one..." She stops and I look up at her sharply as she changes words, "Could stay."

'_No one could stay..._'?

_What was she going to say before that?_

"But I know you're going to like it here, Peeta," she continues on as I try to keep up with her, "The people have been really nice to us. There's always food and clean clothes, and school's much more interesting."

"Why hasn't my family come to see me?" I ask immediately, concern rising.

"They..." she pauses, staring at me with wide, watering eyes, "can't."

She drops the bomb and I'm startled by what she says next.

"A lot of people didn't get out of Twelve."

_Didn't get out..._?

"So we'll need to make a new life here."

_What?_

"I'm sure they could use a good baker." Delly tries to continue still as my heart beat starts climbing, "Do you remember when you father used to let us make dough girls and boys?"

The realization hits at once.

"There was a fire," I whisper, reality hitting me.

"Yes," she whispers back.

"Twelve burned down, didn't it?" I find myself saying, louder now, unable to control myself, to stop the fear from entering my mind, "Because of her. Because of Katniss!"

I start to struggle against the bindings. _She's in here, she's probably listening right now, that bitch. This is probably her plan to win me over._

"Oh, no, Peeta," Delly says, eyes wide, backing from me in fear herself, "It wasn't her fault."

"Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to. I was–"

"Because she's lying," I interrupt her, feeling the bindings struggle, rubbing my wrists uncomfortably, "She's a liar! You can't believe anything she says! She's some kind of _mutt _the Capitol created to use against the rest of us!"

"No, Peeta," Delly stares at me, attempting to calm me while she backs away to the door, "She's not a–"

"Don't trust her, Delly. I did, and she tried to kill me," I have to breathe in, my heart beating in my ears, my nose pulling in sharp breaths to get the oxygen that I haven't been pulling in while talking, "She killed my friends. My family. Don't even go near her! She's a mutt!"

The door opens and I can see the doctors pulling her out of the room.

"A mutt!" I scream after her, "She's a stinking mutt!"

I can't control the lack of air, "Don't trust her, Delly! Don't you trust that mutt! Don't you trust her for one second!"

When I've finished yelling myself raw, I fall back with my head on the pillow, close my eyes, and try to will her out of my mind. My nerves wrack my body until I'm shaking, unable to stay laying still.

But, since I've exhausted myself so completely, sleep is easy enough to attain.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Long chappie. I would love a review, why don't you do that in the three day wait fer Option B? ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	14. Chapter 4 OPTB: Inside, Outside

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option B<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hey everyone.

Nasty day huh? First Amy Winehouse died, then the insane shootings in Norway. It's crazy sad.

On my side of things, I started playing WoW again. ^_^ That's SOME good news.

Been doing lots of insane werk on my Trilogy, lots of big changes and character development, it's got me totally excited.

I don't want to blather too much tho, otherwise yall get bored.

So, I love you all, and welcome to all the new people, as there are a LOT of you. _ Welcome BACK to all the oldies but goodies! Nice of you lot to stick through this.

You've all been waiting fer Chapter 4 of Option B impatiently. XP And here it is! Continue on, enjoy, and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Too alike, yet far apart.

What felt so good, once, is breaking me,

And tearing us apart again.

Don`t you see?

We`re in this together.

You and me,

One-on-one forever.

I know it`s self-inflicted.

We`re way too desperate,

Way too addicted.

But I can`t help the way I feel.

I know it`s time to be strong,

Now when all hope is gone.

And in your troubled eyes I see:

Someone who carried me somehow.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Inside, Outside<strong>

* * *

><p>Katniss stands as I pick up the shirt and look at it.<em> But I clearly remember that I ruined it last night.<em>

"Peeta?"

I turn and stare at her beautiful, naked body. Her large belly protruding out in that unusually natural way; healthy and round still.

"What are you doing?" She laughs, stepping to me.

Her mouth isn't busted at all now, there are no signs of wound, or blood, or bruise at all.

I reach out and touch her lips, "I raped you..."

Her eyes widen, "You what?"

"Last night," I try to explain, "I forced you to–"

"Peeta," Katniss smiles nervously, "You didn't rape me."

"I hit you."

"No," she corrects, "You didn't. You've never hit me, Peeta."

"But–"

She puts her hand up to stop me, "You need help, I know. But you didn't rape me, or hit me, at all. You never have. Understand?"

I open my mouth to protest again, but she presses her fingers up against my lips firmly.

"Last night was great," she says, smiling, "You were so gentle, loving. You were amazing, perfect. You always are."

"I don't like what I see."

Katniss steps forward then, pressing her body close, belly touching my navel, "You don't?"

My stomach drops into my gut and I swallow. Our bodies, naked, pressed together..._ I do._

She grins, "That's what I thought," she says softly, "We'll figure something out."

I reach up, grab her neck and throw her back onto the bed, my heart races, but when I blink... I'm not standing at all. I'm laying over her and she's giggling in my ear.

I pull away to stare at her, she's not shaken or scared; she's not hysterical. But her smile goes away.

"Peeta," she says, "How are you... seeing this?" She asks unsurely.

"Did I hurt you?" I feel myself asking.

She smiles again, "No. Of course not."

"I don't–" I try to word appropriately, "I don't do anything... weird, do I?"

Katniss shakes her head and kisses my neck, "No, it's normal, until you pull away. Nothing seems wrong until that happens."

I blink the tears from my eyes and look down at her, "I need to figure this out."

She nods, though she's confused, she's trying to understand.

I don't want to scare her or chase her away, or get myself into the hospital ward, but this time... I purposely choose to be rough.

I don't warn her when I come back to the bed and pull her into my arms, I act as I think what I saw will. I'm forceful, acting out. Rougher then usual.

And when I expect her to scream, she doesn't. The soft, sweet moan escapes her lips and I pull back to look at her.

But she's not happy or excited at all.

She's surprised, maybe concerned, "Peeta, please–"

I get up, off of her body, and grab my pants from the ground to pull them on.

"Peeta–"

"No!" I shout, raising my hand, "Katniss. No. I-I have to get out of here."

She moves to stop me but I step back.

"I need some space." I pull on my shirt and leave the room.

* * *

><p>"You need something?"<p>

I walk past him, into his room, without being invited in.

"Haymitch," I say as I stare around the place, similar to mine and Katniss's before turning to him and sighing in defeat, "Have you ever... Imagined yourself, doing something very terrible to someone you love?"

He turns, closing the door and looking at me, unsure, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not actually doing them," I start to try and explain, "I mean, I don't think I am. I think I'm just seeing it."

Haymitch walks up to me and looks me directly in the eyes, "What, exactly, do you see yourself doing, and to who?"

I move from him, sit on the side of his bed and put my head in my hands, "I don't think I can say it out loud."

_Say it out loud? I can hardly think about it at all._

I hear him sigh, hear him walk closer again, and feel him sit down beside me.

"Peeta," he says, as harmlessly as possible, "I won't think of you any different, just tell me what it is."

"You will, I promise you that you will."

"How can you actually know that unless you tell me?"

I pause, tears coming to my eyes in disgust at the thought of hurting her, raping her, punching her and doing things to her that I've never imagined I was capable of, "Because I do. I can't help thinking about it, Haymitch."

He doesn't say anything now as I break down, as I start crying in front of him.

"I can't stop seeing these things I'm doing to her," I manage out, "I want to touch her, I want just... But every time I do... It's like... It's like I'm him, in the arena, but it's me."

Haymitch's hand rests against my back as he tries to calm me down, "Like who?"

"Cato," I pull my face from my hands and stand up, "I can't be intimate at all with her without raping her."

"Ra–" Haymitch stands as well, grabbing my arm and turning me around, "You see yourself? Or Cato?"

"Me," I explain more, "It's like I'm out of control. I hit her, she was bleeding, I choked her, I did all of these horrible things, but when I woke up in the morning, none of that had happened. She was fine. Happy, even."

Haymitch raised a brow nudging his head to the side in a sort of way that says 'ah, of course'.

I'm trying to control my breathing when I continue on, "It's good that I didn't really do it, but I don't... I'm afraid that I might really do it. And she's pregnant. She's my wife. I don't want to see these things, I don't want to do them–"

Haymitch grabs my hands from my face and holds them low near my sides, "Calm down, Peeta. You haven't done anything wrong, alright?"

I nod, swallowing and breathing as calmly as possible.

"You're right," he says, "It's good you haven't done anything. But no one wants to see themselves hurting their wives."

"Sometimes I can't even tell whether I'm doing it or not," I manage out, "I tried to be rough with her on purpose but when I pulled back... she was fine again. I don't understand."

Haymitch sits me on the bed again and clears his throat, "I don't want you to be testing this thing out, Peeta. Not when you barely understand it. It's dangerous, and we don't want to hurt Katniss, or your baby."

I nod in agreement.

"So far, it sounds like, you haven't done anything wrong to her at all," Haymitch says, slowly and factually, "I don't think you need to worry about it changing, unless it's shown you it can."

"But what if it does?"

"It hasn't yet," Haymitch says sternly, "It hasn't yet. That's good. But you need to be careful with this. You really just have to trust yourself. You've always been a good person, Peeta. People always trust you, and with reason. You're a good man, and you would never, ever harm Katniss or your child. She trusts you, I trust you, and a lot of other people do as well. So until you do something completely wrong in reality, I can guarantee you that you're not going to hurt her, no matter how fake or realistic the idea of it is."

"Haymitch–"

"Don't argue with me, Peeta," Haymitch says, standing me back up finally, "There's nothing you would ever do to hurt that girl, I can promise you that. So don't go worrying about it. Alright?"

"Should I continue trying to be inti–"

"I'm perfectly fine not hearing about you two having sex," Haymitch says, stopping me from talking by raising his hand up, "Yes, continue to be loving, whether it looks like it to you or not. Katniss needs it, certainly. And hopefully you're images in your head will start to change back. I don't think it's anything to worry about."

I leave his room, not feeling as hopeless and terrified as before, but he did very little in the ways of comfort. His trust in me seems to be blinding him to what I could possibly do to Katniss.

He doesn't seem bothered by it at all.

* * *

><p>When I return to the bedroom, Katniss is in the shower.<p>

I quickly, quietly lock the door, strip down, and join her under the water.

With her back turned to me, I place my hands on her small pale shoulders, making them disappear in my palms.

I press my lips to the back of her neck and kiss the salt from her skin.

Her hand reaches up and rests over my right one, fingers lace together and she turns to stare up at me, "I love you."

I smile, lean down, and take her lips up in mine. Her hair is soaking wet and I cup her neck, jaw and cheek to pull her face close.

Her soft breasts press to the bottom of my pecks and she steps forward, lining our bodies together. I feel her own hands, moving over my waist, nails running around to chase up my spine and settle in on my shoulder blades.

I stare into her innocent, clueless eyes, and my fingers start to clasp tight together around her neck, squeezing until it's uncomfortable for air.

I force her face to the side, teeth grazing over her ear, down her neck.

When I try to stop myself, try to fight the urge to be hard with her, I see that my hands aren't really at her neck. They're at her waist, caressing her round stomach, pulling the bottle of shampoo up to comb through her long brown hair.

She watches me, lovingly, and then horrified as I shove her against the tile, as I push her against it so hard that her shoulder blades might bruise.

Katniss panics, pushing against me again. I can't help getting excited, I can't help wanting more.

As much as I keep telling myself: _This is wrong, this isn't right. I don't really want to hurt her. I've never wanted to hurt her... _As much as I say it in my mind, I can't feel it ringing true.

I grab up her wrists, take her jaw in my other hand and kiss her forcefully.

To me, I hear the scream coming from her lips as a soft, wordless sigh against my ear. The water dripping down from our bodies making soft pitter-patter on the bottom of the bathtub.

Instead of shoving me away, or crying, she stares, hungrily into my eyes.

I grab her around the waist and pull her against me, I raise one hand to move her hair from her face and trace the tips of my other hand's fingers down her back, clawing tight against the skin, nails biting into her flesh as I run them over her curves and around to the front.

She breathes in sharp, but when I look down to see her face, I find myself looking up and instead of standing still in front of her, I'm kneeled at her waist. My fingers are inside of her, and the wound I've caused on her side isn't there.

"Peeta."

She breathes out, but I don't want to hear the excitement in her voice. I want her to scream again, I want her afraid again. Otherwise, she'll know that something's wrong when she sees that I've become completely turned off.

I stand, lift her against the tiled wall harshly, and grab one of her legs up to wrap around my waist. Instead of messing around anymore, I grab her neck, choke it again, feel the adrenaline course as usual as she struggles against me

_There's nothing I want more then this._

_Nothing at all... Nothing except... making her..._

_**Nothing**__, except making her happy._

When I shove from her, to straighten up my mind and get away from the confusion, she gasps in pain and grabs my shoulders.

"Don't stop," she begs lovingly, "Don't stop, please."

I do stop though, I stop and look into her eyes.

"Keep going," she whispers, staring at me, willing me to come back into her.

But I can't do it.

I pull away, leave the shower, walk to the bed, climb into it and curl myself into the fetal position. _I can't keep seeing her like that, it'll destroy me._

_I know that Haymitch said that she needs me, but I can't do that to her... Not when I'm seeing it differently. _Feeling pleasure with her while choking her out. _She's pregnant, and there's nothing more wrong then doing that to her when I'm like this._

Whether I feel pleasure while doing it, the damage afterwards is too much. The idea of getting pleasure from it, even if it's fake...

Katniss joins me in the bed and wraps her arms around my waist.

"Peeta," she whispers in my ear, but I don't look back, "You didn't hurt me."

"I know," I respond, cupping my hand over her's.

She chuckles softly and kisses behind my ear, "You don't have to be afraid of me. You're always so gentle, there's no way you could ever hurt me, Peeta. You're such a gentle person."

_Such a gentle person._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

See you all Tuesday! And if you would please, review? I'd very much appreciate it. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	15. Chapter 4 OPTC: Really Love You

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hello everyone!

This chapter is slightly shorter than most. I'm kinda in a fit right now. But I wanted to get it out into the 'verse. It's not lacking or anything, I promise. But there's a few things I'm holding onto fer you guys, it's going to take time though. Just enjoy Option C.

Writing this one has to be one of my favorites. I simply adore the idea. And I know quite a few of you do too.

So read on. Enjoy, and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Sam, Chapter 13 Response: "Late response, I know, but I got around to it! Thank you, and I love that song. And, fer those that read most of the Options, or all of them, I try to give a great amount of 'even'. I level them out with each other, as you read, without making the ones that read single options feel overwhelmed or underwhelmed. I'm glad someone has actually mentioned appreciation. That makes me happy. ^^ And yeah, I've been in the Post Potter depression since I bought the tickets. Great movie tho."

Sam, Chapter 15 Response: "It totally was Haymitch. He seemed off writing it. He's not a terribly hard character to get into, but the entire situation was kinda fucked to begin with. I hope you can fergive me fer getting it out in a rush without being able to take time to make it believable. Maybe at some point I can go back and fix it over. But I'm not going to deny it, it was off. Also, yeah, totally can't wait fer Dexter. And Season 6 is coming out, I'm so excited! Oh gosh. /fan"

JennaGill (who still doesn't accept responses the easy way XP): "Yer totally right, I don't think there's any darker place a man can go, at this point. Not unless he's Sylar. I'm glad yer liking Option b, it's so much fun to write, no matter how dark it gets."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

If I really loved you, baby,

I would let you be.

I wouldn't bring you down this winding road with me.

As torturous and lonely as letting go would be,

If I really loved you, baby,

I would set you free.

If the answer to the question is:

"Yes, I really love you."

"Yes. I really love you, more than you could know."

But, because I really love you,

I'm gonna have to let you go.

(That last line should be changed, but that's the way he sings it, totally should be "I have you let you go", the 'gonna' totally throws it off. XP)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Really Love You<strong>

* * *

><p>Once we're back settled into our rooms and the worst damage is done, it's easier to avoid Katniss.<p>

Sitting down there, in the darkness, the silence, listening to her playing with Buttercup, watching her huddle close with Gale, was more unbearable then I could've imagined.

Before I've even left the room though, Boggs pulls me out of the line, motioning to Gale, Katniss, and Finnick as well.

After they join us, he leads us out of the room and directly towards the nearest elevator.

Everyone is completely silent until we reach Special Defense.

Katniss, standing at Gale's side, doesn't seem to care about distance, because the entire time, I can feel her shoulder brush against my arm.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Gale though.

In the next room, Plutarch, Haymitch, and Cressida stand waiting for us. There are others sitting at the large table and before them are cups of warm coffee.

"We need all of you suited up and above ground," Boggs says, "We have about two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombing, establish that Thirteen's military unit remains not only functional but dominant, and that the Mockingjay is still alive. Questions?"

"Can we have a coffee?" Finnick asks, eying the cups on the table.

When I've gotten my own, I take it over to the table to sweeten it as Finnick offers one to Katniss.

"Want a sugar cube?" He purrs.

I raise my brow, nearly grinning, but I hide it from them as we get dressed into our uniforms and we're taken up to the surface.

* * *

><p>It's only a moment of preparation, to have everything set up for filming, before I'm set, standing in front of the Justice Building, as the recording starts.<p>

"President Snow," I begin, trying not to smirk, forcing it into the kindest smile I've got, "you've bombed Thirteen before, and failed. They managed to come back from that. But this attempt was hardly even felt. We're stronger than you're giving us credit for. And if you think we're going to take this attack laying down in defeat, you're mistaken."

Katniss, staring from the left of the camera, was barely paying attention before, but now she's staring directly at me.

"The rebellion still run strong, still carrying on without a second of latency because of this bombing," I say, "As you can see behind me, almost the entirety of the surface of Thirteen is in ruins. But it looks no different now than it has for ages already."

"We're still here, stronger then ever," I continue on, not looking at Katniss, "And so am I."

It's the last part that is hardest to come out, because it's the only part that is a lie. It's not obvious to anyone... except her.

I see it cross her face immediately.

Cressida smiles and ends recording. There's thanks given, 'well done's', and I move out of the camera view as Finnick steps forward.

I walk to the stairs but hear her voice just as I'm about to go down them.

"Peeta Mellark," she says.

I stop and look back at her. Katniss, standing there with her hand outstretched, unsure, confused. Gale, just a foot or two behind her with an even **more **concerned look on his face, staring at me. Like it's _my _fault that she might even _slightly _remember me. Like she **shouldn't **remember me at all.

"Katniss," I say softly, stopping and turning to her.

Her eyes widen even more as she walks closer and stares up at me.

"You've looked so sad since I've gotten back," she starts saying, "I feel like... I feel like I've offended you."

I can't help sighing in defeat. _Leave it to Katniss to blame this on herself even when she doesn't know a thing._

"You don't know me," I say, and then ask: "Do you?"

"I didn't think I did," she says, her head moving into a shake of it, slowly, still confused, "But I think I do."

"Well, you don't."

She stops moving and stares at me, still as a tree, "What?"

"You don't know me," I breathe, trying to fight back the tears, "You don't know anything about me, and you never have."

"But I feel like I do."

"Well, you don't," I correct her again, "You're just a... just a stupid... girl."

Katniss, immediately aware that I'm attacking her, backs up a foot.

I continue on._ If this is the only way to let her go, I have to do it_, "I know you, I've always known you, Katniss. And you can be the Mockingjay, I don't care. But I don't want you looking at me anymore. I don't want you talking to me."

"If you have a problem with me," she says, raising her voice angrily, "Then you should just say it, Peeta Mellark."

"Alright!" I shout finally, glaring at her as angrily as I can, "**I hate you**. I hate everything about you. You're a stupid fake. But it's what we need, so I'm _dealing _with it in the best way I can! Now can you just shut up and leave me alone!"

Her eyes are even wider then before as I turn and storm from the surface.

I don't know where to go now, I don't have any idea where my new room is, so I go down to Special Defense again to pay Beetee a visit.

* * *

><p>I'm down there, talking with him, for nearly an hour before Haymitch comes and visits me.<p>

He motions to me from the elevator and I join him.

As he pushes the button for it to go on, he says: "You made her cry."

"Not nearly as much as she would've if she actually remembered who I was."

"Peeta," Haymitch says, sounding annoyed, "You can't keep pushing her away."

"Pushing her away?" I ask, raising my brow, "I'm doing what's best for her, I'm doing what I can to repair the damage Snow has done. You should be proud of me."

Haymitch grumbles, "Oh, by doing what? You're making yourself miserable. And you're making her miserable too."

"I'm making her happy."

"How?" He asks, staring at me, "By forcing her into a relationship with a man she doesn't really love?"

"She **does **love him," I correct him, "Katniss has always loved Gale. She just loved me too. It's easier now, she can have him and I can–"

"Suffer in silence."

"I'm not suffering," I deny, despite what I feel inside, "I'm managing."

We leave the elevator and Haymitch leads me to my new room without saying anything until we've reached it.

"You know what you should've done?"

I sit down on the bed with a sigh and then look up at him, "What?"

Haymitch glares at me and says: "You should've set her straight to begin with. You should've been honest. Not just let Gale take over. You're only doing him the favor, not you, or her. It's unfair to the both of you, and you know it."

"She doesn't remember me, Haymitch," I tell him, "I'm not there anymore. There's nothing to go from."

"I would say _'then try, you're not trying_', but you're wrong."

I stop and look at him, "What do you mean?"

Haymitch stares down at me, still standing by the door, "I've talked to her, a lot. She's come to me plenty of times, confused. She remembers you. Maybe she doesn't know it's _you_, but she remembers _things_."

"Like what?" I ask, and I can't help becoming interested. I have to fight though, to hide the glassing, watering, blurring in my eyes.

"Well," Haymitch says, walking over to me, "She remembers you playing with Prim. And she remembers some of your speeches. She also told me that she remembers the smell of bread, but not from actually smelling bread. She says that every time she smells it, she can't help connecting you to it."

"It's done, though," I stand up, walking around him and to the door, "Haymitch, I can't take her from Gale, not again. But I need to get away from here. I can't stand seeing them together."

"Then you shouldn't have shoved them into each other."

"Just send me somewhere, Haymitch," I say over him, "I don't want to be here. Send me off where I'm needed. District Two, that's not done yet, right? Send me there."

Haymitch crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me, "Why? So you can attempt to die in battle?"

"I'm not suicidal," I respond, "I'm not going to do anything dumb. Just get me out of here, please."

He looks unsure though.

"When have I ever asked you to do something for me, Haymitch?" I ask and he starts to say something but I speak over him again, "For me, not Katniss."

He closes his mouth and nods, "Alright. I'll get you to Two."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. See you all on Friday, don't you DARE sing that song.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	16. Chapter 4 OPTD: If It's Not This

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option D<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Well, hello there everyone.

Did you miss me? I hope so. XP Because I missed you all like lots.

Hmm, what all to say? Uh, crazy things going on in life, I'll prolly be going up to Canada here soon, so packing might make updates tight in a few weeks. If it DOES, I'll slow down updates but I WON'T be stopping them. And to make up fer that, once I'm in Canada, I'll speed them up a little bit.

I'm hoping I can get all of this out soon and then start werking on other options and stuff.

Oh, did I say too much?

That's right, other options.

Fer those of you that have noticed my 'then' and 'than' problem, I apologize fer it, I'm trying to get better and will be going back to fix previous ones. If there's one of you, or three, that like doing that stuff, feel free to point them out to me in an email or note or something, not in a review. And fer anyone that sees FUTURE ones, do tell me. Because I'm still not entirely sure how to use the terms.

There's one in this chapter I'll go ahead and ask.

"_Then talk to her." _

Should that be 'than'? I'm not sure. T_T

Uh, so yeah, werking on that. If I think of anything else, it'll be up soon. The next few updates will be every OTHER day. K? So Option A Chapter 5 will be out on Thursday.

I think that's all fer now, love you all, glad to be back!

Please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I will be here when you feel like being quiet,

When you need to speak your mind.

I will listen and I will be here,

When the laughter turns to crying,

Through the winning, losing and trying.

We'll be together.

I will be here.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - If It's Not This<strong>

* * *

><p>The meeting with Coin has left me with a twist in my gut.<p>

There's a look to her, a feeling around her, that I can't shake away no matter how hard I try. I can't help thinking that dealing with Snow isn't nearly the half of this.

I can't get it out of my mind.

At least, at the end of the meeting, I got her on the page that Katniss and I have been on for days already.

She won't pester us anymore, not about schedules. However, when I propose rescuing Annie, Katniss's mother, and Prim, Coin immediately sours.

It's as if she's been waiting for this question all along.

She doesn't like it, I imagine, but she has no argument against it that's legit, reasonable, or even negotiable. She would've asked for something in return if Katniss hadn't brought up the 'Mockingjay agreement'.

And, just like that, as easy as cookies, a team was assembled and taken to the Capitol on strict rescue and run mission. Nothing more, nothing less.

There were little casualties expected, but when I offered my hand to fight as well, Katniss nearly panicked.

* * *

><p>It was mere hours before the team returned.<p>

Haymitch came to us where we sat together in our room and announced it with a wide grin.

Katniss grabs my hand and nearly yanks me up from the bed.

We immediately follow after Haymitch until we see members from the previously assembled team being treated in the hallway.

I have only a second to look around when a voice breaks through the hall that stops us both in our tracks.

"Peeta! Katniss!"

"Prim!" We shout together and both of us are bing pulled into a strong hug from her and their mother.

It's amazing, sometimes, how blinding happiness can be in moments like this. How, we know that they've been held hostage, held against their will, probably tortured, and the marks under their eyes mean so little now that we can touch them, and hold them, and enjoy them. Now that we know they're safe.

As we're hugging and calming down, letting our heartbeats return to some sense of normal, Prim pulls back and stares down at Katniss's stomach.

Finally, she grins and says: "You're getting big, Katniss."

"I am not," Katniss barks back in surprise.

"You are though," her mother confirms, "Soon enough you're going to be having problems walking."

"I'm not that big," Katniss says, glaring.

She's really not that big. She's got a bit of time before I have to help her with things. Right now it's slightly noticeable when she wears baggy shirts, looking more like she's just overweight though. But I've talked her into wearing tight ones with pride. Mostly so I can stare, and enjoy, because she looks completely radiant like this.

I can't help thinking that she should be like this often.

She's pouting now and I lean over to kiss her temple.

"You look beautiful, Katniss," I tell her and her face flushes red, "Absolutely beautiful."

After this, the team of doctors decide it's time for physical examinations of those rescued from the Capitol.

Katniss barely lets Prim's hand go.

But I can tell that, either way, she's more happy without Prim, but knowing she's here, than Katniss has been this whole time.

It's what happens then that concerns me the most.

Coin walks up to us as we watch Prim wave one last time before they turn a corner out of our sight.

I look at the cold leader as she folds her arms.

"We lost quite a few good men getting those girls out alive."

I nod understandably, "It was a necessary loss, but it won't be in vain."

"I'm beginning to wonder how many losses I have to suffer before your satisfied with asking for vanity items."

"Vanity?" I ask, raising a brow, "A human life is _vanity_?"

"They are to you," Coin says coldly, staring through the slits of her lids now.

"Every life means more to me than they do to you, Coin," I argue back, "I can assure you of that. We're nothing but 'breeding stock' to you. So don't question our intentions or concerns. Or you're going to have an enemy within arm's length."

I've wounded her confidence and it's obvious when she backs down.

"You're much more than breeding stock to me, Peeta Mellark–"

But I don't let her finish the move she's made to gain back ground, "Maybe I'm not breeding stock, and maybe Katniss isn't. But we're not poker chips or aces up your sleeve, either."

She raises a brow.

"We aren't bought over so easily."

Katniss's hand squeezes mine as we turn from Coin and retreat back to our room.

_Coin. She's a problem._

* * *

><p>Katniss eats silently beside me in the lunch area, putting the bread roll on my plate while she mixes her meat in gravy. Both of which have now become standard.<p>

Her mother and Prim were still with the doctors, being examined over and checked for signs of stress. From what little we've heard, they're obviously more fidgety now than the average person has any right to be.

It bothers us both to imagine what they've been through and the quivering in my arms, that I haven't been able to stop all day, has only been spurred on by that thought. As I think over what I have to do now.

"I love you," Katniss says when it's been too silent.

I turn to her and grin, kiss the side of her temple, "I love you," I respond.

"You're bothered about something," she observes as I don't say anything else. "Is it about what Coin said?"

"Yeah," I confirm, my hands trembling as I tear the bread into bite sizes, dipping them in my own gravy.

"What's wrong?"

"She is," I answer immediately, unable to stop myself.

Katniss becomes stiff at my side and then her arm slips around my waist, "What is it, Peeta?"

I turn to her and whisper, "She's dangerous, Katniss. Tell me you've noticed it too."

"I have."

"She shot me, well... not her. But her people. And what does that say about how this place has been led since she's taken over?"

"They almost killed you," Katniss agrees, "But they put you back together as well."

I shrug, "To win me over?" I turn and look her in the eyes, "Or you."

Katniss shakes her head and finishes her pork, "No. There's nothing they could ever do for me, to win me over. They shot you first. I don't think I could forgive anyone for that."

I nod in agreement, "We need to get out of this, but I can't imagine what to do after that. Where would we go?"

"And what about the baby?" she asks, her eyes wide, "Don't we need a doctor or someone? Otherwise we won't know how it's doing. And come birth?"

"Babies have been being born far longer than doctors have been around," I say, "They're meant to be. That's not something anyone can stop, whether you have a doctor or not."

Katniss nodded finally and bowed her head, "Alright, say we leave here and go out into the wilderness, then what? We make a house out of sticks? What about rain?"

"What about sleeping in a building full of followers of Coin?" I ask, "Surely that's less safe. She wants the both of us dead."

"I'm pregnant."

"I know that," I say, raising my voice over hers just slightly and she closes her mouth, "I'm sorry."

She grins though and kisses me on the corner of my lips, "For what? Worrying? Caring about us? You don't ever have to apologize for that, Peeta. Never. You do what you have to do."

_Do what I have to do._

And I can't help remembering our conversation on 'What If's. When she affirmed my murders, if not showed pride in them._ To protect. It's what I had to do._

_And I have to do it again._

I can't imagine what's wrong in my mind now. That thinking about murder has become such a regular subject there.

_It's not healthy to think like this. Not healthy at all._

_But I think... I think I have to do it._

_If I leave it like this, and Katniss dies, or is put into danger, who's fault is it? Mine, or Coin's?_

_I'll wait, for now. _After all, I've only been bothered by Coin. She hasn't actually done something that deems death, has she? At least, not that I know of.

Except to riddle me with holes, nearly leaving Katniss alone... and my child.

And what if I hadn't been fast enough? What then?

_I would've killed her then._

The only reason why she isn't dead right now is because I was bed-ridden. And the wounds still sting. It's not something I can forget.

Or forgive.

Either I kill her... Or I have to meet her somewhere in the middle.

"I can't leave this alone, Katniss," I say finally and she looks back to me again, "Maybe we can't leave here, but I can't ignore her either."

"Then talk to her," She says softly, resting her hand on my right bicep, "I can see it eating at you. Don't let it bother you anymore, Peeta. Go and talk to her, if that's what you have to do, but do something."

I shake my head, finishing up my food, "She hasn't done anything wrong, has she?"

"Well," Katniss starts, shrugging, "She didn't nearly kill you, but at the same time... She didn't stop it from happening. And she definitely had the chance to do that. And I saw the look in her eyes. She wanted you dead."

I know that. I know she did.

I remember the cold look in her eyes, the satisfaction.

She thought she killed me then, surely that's enough to deserve it, right?

Katniss moves close, curling against my chest, "Let's go back to the room and talk, I'm tired of being out here."

Every since I've been awake, Katniss doesn't like being around others nearly as much as one should. And not nearly close to how she use to enjoy it.

It's hard to enjoy things like that when your loved ones are being tortured, and no one's doing a thing to save them. Prim and her mother are safe now, so I would've assumed she'd have gotten better about company. But I think it's a grudge at this point.

Katniss is panicking on the inside, despite how much in control she looks right now.

For a pregnant woman... that's a feat.

I take her tray as she starts to pick it up, and then clear the table behind her before we leave the lunch area together.

Eyes are always on us when we leave, but this time they have the decency to not stop us.

* * *

><p>When I get Katniss back to the room, I lay her down and take her left leg up in my lap to massage her feet.<p>

She's always in pain walking around so much. Not nearly as heavy as she will be, though, she's already noticing the weight and changes that are unusual to her body. But natural, nonetheless. It'd worry me if it wasn't. The doctor said it's to be expected.

As I rub my thumbs down in her muscles, she lays her head back and smiles softly.

"I want to go with you," she finally says after a while.

I don't stop the ministrations, but I do slow, and stare at her, "Go with me?" I repeat, unsure.

"Into the wilderness," she says, her eyes still closed.

"I thought we weren't doing that."

"I wanted to do it before," Katniss continues softly, "I don't know, I just can't think of any other way to be sure that we'll both be safe. You're worried about her, and you're always right when you're worried. The outside is a risk, but honestly... We've been in the arena. What could be worse than that?"

_What could be? The wilderness... Maybe our best bet. And then what?_

"What about your family?"

It was a weapon I'd been holding off on, because I'd honestly thought of it, but it surprised me that Katniss hadn't even mentioned them.

Katniss stops and looks at me, genuinely surprised, "What about them?"

"They're not safe here without us, Katniss," I outline, but she shrugs.

"Don't you think I've already thought of that? Honestly Peeta, it's Prim. Of course I've thought of them."

"And?"

Katniss shrugs, "And... we'll take them with us."

I continue rubbing her feet down, "Say we leave, and then Coin defeats Snow, then what? Coin takes his place and we've got a whole new problem at hand."

"She can't possibly be that bad, can she?"

"She can."

"So what," Katniss says dismissively, "We'll be on our own. We'll even tell her that we're leaving. We'll be completely separated."

I stare at her, know that she's serious, and she's not just being emotional, "Alright. We'll have them take us to District Twelve. And then travel from there. That way, they can't exactly locate us, not if we're moving from the city, out into the wilderness."

Away from all civilization. It's an almost terrifying thought, but I can't imagine what else we can do.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Feel free to review and I'll see you on Thursday!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	17. Chapter 5 OPTA: Image

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Yes, back again, as promised.

Surprisingly, I actually had a fun time writing this chapter, it was one of the most enjoyed by far. Not so dark like most of A and B have been.

I hope you all enjoy it too.

I don't really have much to report, just hope that you all are doing well!

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Sam: "Yeah, it's good to be back, I'm doing well. And I got so many things going on these next few months. Dexter soon, Glee soon. Omg. O.O"

JennaGill: "Oh yes, I'm back. ^^ Everything is more falling apart than coming together, but it's all good, really well I guess, it's an okay/acceptable falling apart. And necessary. And yer not the only one that's enjoying the multiple Peetas. Rly, who can have too much Peeta? Opt D Peeta, Opt D. Well, I can't say anything yet. But big shit in Chapter 5 Option D. Big shit."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

All this thinkin' of you.

Is that what you're doing too?

You're always on my mind.

I talk about you all of the time.

Don't waste another day.

Don't waste another minute.

I can't wait to see your face,

Just to show you how much I'm in it.

You're just standing by.

You're just wasting time.

Why don't you just tell me the truth,

About me and you?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 - Image<strong>

* * *

><p>I've been poked and prodded all morning.<p>

Finally, a man comes in who looks... devilishly familiar, and he grins at me.

"Alright, Peeta," he says, clapping his hands together, "We've got something we want you to do."

I look at him, stare at his form for a moment before the name surfaces, "Plutarch."

He nods, "Yes, yes, exactly that, you liked painting cakes, right?

"I still do," I respond, watching him as he walks forward, "Why?" I can't help feeling weary when I see him, after all, he helped design that stupid clock.

Plutarch smiles even wider and motions to me, "Let's get him out of here."

The guards remove my restraints to fix me with travel shackles and I'm finally taken away from the sterile smelling hospital.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going, I've hardly seen any of District Thirteen, so I don't bother to pay attention to the directions they're leading me in.

At last, they've brought me into a room that smells more than familiar. _Bakery familiar._

I look around it and see, very clearly, a naked, fresh, baked cake sitting up on a platter with the proper tools of trade sitting out at it's side.

I turn back to Plutarch and he's beaming at me.

"Well, go ahead."

"What's the occasion?" I ask, staring at him, "Is someone getting married?"

"Someone is," he says, "A friend of yours. Finnick."

Finnick Odair.

"With Annie?" I ask, trying to hold my excitement for them.

Plutarch nods enthusiastically, "Yes. Would you like to paint the cake for them?"

My fingers are practically itching to do it, _how could I refuse? _"Of course. I'd love to, I... I'd like to make their wedding cake for them."

I nearly stumble forward and the guards settle around me as I start to mix the icing colors. I can see it already, the design I want to go with, I can imagine it finished.

When I take the knife of white icing to the cake for only a second, my eyes go immediately to my arm because I find that my hands won't stop shaking. It's something I pause to watch, something that stumps me, until the sick feeling overwhelms me and I set the knife down, take up a few breaths of air to gather myself again.

One of the guards in my sight is eying me, waiting for something to happen, but it doesn't.

I manage to gain control again, pick up the knife once more and begin to cover the naked cake in the soft, white frosting.

It's calming, which is odd, because I normally hated this part about making cakes, I liked painting them more. But I've missed it so much. _This would even be fine alone._

_Just this, it would be better than nothing._

Icing the cake takes longer than it normally should, mostly because I keep having to stop when the shaking becomes obvious once more. I've also began noticing what triggers it.

"_Take one deep breath."_

_I did. And I didn't even get to finish it when the small instrument was flicked near my ear._

_The pain. I remember the pain well. Too well. Not really in my body, just my hands. Like they were on fire, like they were turning into ice. Like they were breaking into pieces._

I couldn't help but feel it after that, every time I tried to use them. Even long afterwards, that twinge was still there, or the fear of it. The overwhelming fear that it'd start up again.

Now, done with the layer to cover the body of the cake, I pick up the icing bag and put a cap on it that is more ideal for flower making.

The flowers were even more calming than icing, now that I was doing it.

That pain reared again after the first flower was done and my hands started to shake along with it. I can't help wondering why it's back so much now? Hadn't I painted after the punishment and been fine? _Had I? I can't remember_.

I can hardly remember after it happened at all. At this thought, I remember her. I remember that** bitch**.

My hands start shaking even more now and I back away from the cake, I grab up the knife that I'd set down so that I could paint on the flowers with the bag of icing and hold it out against the guards that move to me. I pull my other arm with it, but it doesn't bother me.

_She's somewhere in this building, if I don't find her and get rid of her, she's going to kill me._

One of the guards moves closer and I duck out of his grasp but another grabs me up with his arms locked around my shoulders to pull me back.

They wrestle the knife from my hand and the chains bite, shackles digging into my skin as my arms attempt to separate at the wrist.

"No!" I shout, grabbing after the knife, "No, give that back! Give it back!"

"Peeta!" The one holding me shouts over my voice, "Calm down, calm down! Katniss isn't here right now, calm down!"

"She's not here," I confirm, struggling against him, "She's somewhere in this building."

"No, she's not," he says, "She's away, she's in another district. Now, calm down."

I start then, try to calm down, try to get my breathing back in order. He holds me until I'm on my knees, exhausted.

"Are you okay now?" He asks softly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," I say as he releases me, "I'm sorry."

I turn onto my stomach and stare, breathing, at the cake, "Can I still paint? You can take the knife away. I'm done with it."

The guard looks at me and then nods, "One moment." He gets up and surveys the counter where the tools are, then takes two things, sharp things, before returning to his spot by the wall.

"You can, now," he says.

I stand back up and return to the counter with the cake, taking up the bag of icing and starting on a new flower beside the other. My heart is pounding in my chest still from the physical exertion only a moment ago.

My hands shake, but I'm getting better at calming them when they start up, and then I can continue on with making flowers.

Making them is slower than usual, time-staking, and I don't get far until they're taking me from the room and putting me back onto my bed with the triple straps on my wrists.

I feel better now, better than I have in a long time. Calmed.

I miss painting.

With that, with very little effort, I fall fast asleep.

* * *

><p>When I wake up, the doctor is standing close at my side and rests his hand on my shoulder as I open my eyes wider.<p>

"Good morning, Peeta," he says softly and calmly.

"Morning," I manage out, swallowing and looking around, "Is something happening?"

He smiles, "Well, someone would like to see you, but it's your choice, Peeta."

"Who?" I ask immediately, curious.

"Haymitch," The doctor says, watching my face close for any sign of reaction.

I'm sure he would've seen my eyebrows shoot up, but other than that, nothing else, "Haymitch? He's here?"

"He's just outside. But you don't have to see him if you don't want to, or if you don't think you can handle it."

"I can handle it," I say, "I can. I want to. And I want to see Haymitch, please."

The doctor nods, smiling wide and leaving the bed, "We'll keep you down, just in case."

I watch him leave and everything is silent in the room for a moment. I'm more than wide awake now, eager to see Haymitch, to ask questions.

He walks in then, stopping only to close the door before he makes his way across the room, to my bedside.

I feel, almost immediately, concerned and confused. It's been so long since I've seen him.

His eyes stare into mine as he takes a seat, "Hello Peeta," he says in his usual gruff greeting.

"Hi Haymitch," I say back.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, hands resting in his lap.

I attempt a shrug against the sheets, "I've been worse, I guess. How about you?"

He smiles, like he's sucking on something sour, and then says: "About the same, I guess, but with different circumstances."

I nod, understanding enough.

"I came here," he begins, "Hoping that I could talk to you, help clear some things up. Maybe get a bit of ground covered."

"I already know a lot of it," I say before he can continue, "You were plotting with District Thirteen to have us all saved once Katniss got rid of the force field, I know that. I also know that you didn't give either one of us a heads up. Not that she would've told me, that bit–"

"Peeta," Haymitch interrupts me, raising his hand up, "I'm not here for her, or on her behalf. I want to talk to you. But, for the record, she would've told you. She loves you, you know that."

"She tried to kill me, I know _that_."

"You don't know anything, not if that's all you know about her."

"She's a mutt, Haymitch."

"She's not!" He says, glaring at me, "And you know me, Peeta. Honestly, think about it for a moment. How could she really be a mutt? How could she deceive you so well? You love her. And she would do anything for you."

"She wouldn't–"

Haymitch stands up and takes a breath, "She would. Will. **Has**. Peeta, I'm sure you know it. You're just being stupid and stubborn, which is unusual, even for you."

I close my mouth and eyes as I take a breath to calm the anger that is overwhelming me.

"She's innocent, Peeta," Haymitch's voice helps to slow my racing heart, "She's been foolish before. And she hasn't always loved you. You and I know that. But she loves you now. You're in her, and she wouldn't do a thing to harm you, not ever."

I open my eyes finally, that familiar feeling of comfort washing over me when I think of her, "Katniss."

Haymitch calms down over me and sits once again, "Yes."

I have to shake my head, have to curl my fingers tight against my palm to see her right, but it's there. Some hint of comfort, some need to see her, something that, despite new knowledge of her, won't go away. It has to be some sort of control she has, but I can't help it.

"Katniss."

When I turn my head to bury it against the pillow, the tears spill sideways, blinding my left eye and dripping down it's cheek until they reach my ear and hair.

Haymitch reaches forward and puts his hand on my arm, I don't see it, but I feel it.

"I don't know if I can trust her, Haymitch," I whisper through the sobs, "But I'll try. I'll try to give her a chance, but that's all I can do."

"Alright."

I manage to calm myself and turn back to stare at the roof, blinking the tears from my eyes.

Haymitch waits silently at my side before I finally talk again.

"I wish you had told me something, gave me some sort of hint."

"I know," he says, "I was just worried that you'd overreact for Katniss, or tell her. And if you told her, she wouldn't have been able to hide it."

"To think I trusted her that much."

"Peeta."

I close my mouth and sigh, "I know, I know. But I can't help thinking that it's all her fault."

"It's no more her fault than it is your's."

"I'm still angry at you," I say, turning to look him in the eyes, "No matter what you 'feared', it was my life on the line, not yours. I trusted you. And you never told me."

Haymitch nods wearily, "I know, I'm sorry."

The doctor comes in then, almost startling me, he comes close with the guards behind him.

"Did you want to work on the cake more, Peeta?"

"Yes," I say immediately and he smiles, then I turn to Haymitch, "Do you want to come?"

He looks hesitant at first but nods and stands up as the Doctor undoes my restraints, replacing them with the usual cuffs.

"You can work in those?"

I look at Haymitch as I stand up, but nod.

"Yes," I respond, "It's annoying, but I can do it."

He watches my hands as the guards take me out of the room.

I ignore the walk, turning back to Haymitch to talk more, "It's nice. I never realized how much I missed painting before now. But it should be obvious, right?"

Haymitch grins and nods, "Well, there wasn't much anyone could do to deter you from painting when you got to working on a nice piece. How far done is the cake?"

"Not at all, really," I respond as we turn a corner, I put the base color on it, and maybe four or more flowers."

"We should see about getting a hold of some of your paints and canvases. I'm sure they fine at your home, but you'd probably like to get back into that."

"My home is fine?" I ask, raising a brow at him, "I thought Twelve was bombed."

Haymitch nods, "It was, but not the Victor's Village."

This makes me pause in talking to think as we enter the kitchen.

_Why would Snow leave the Victor's Village alone? Untouched? Why wouldn't he bomb there? Katniss and I were in the arena, Haymitch was in the Capitol too. Did he think that we'd come back there?_

_The only people left back there were Katniss's family._

"Haymitch," I say as I walk to the cake and take up the bag of icing, checking the color and changing it out for a soft purple icing instead.

"Yeah, Peeta?" His voice comes from my left and I turn to see he's seated himself nearby to watch me work.

"Where are Katniss's mother and Prim?"

He looks surprised by this question, but then smiles, "They're here in Thirteen, Peeta. Why?"

"I was just wondering."

And then I go to work, slowly taking my time to make the petals of each and every flower perfect. I make different kinds, roses, tulips, dahlias, soft bindweed and verbena to fill the small spots.

All of the while, Haymitch watches me, silently for so long that I would've thought he was getting bored.

And then he says: "Only you can make the flowers so completely distinguished."

I turn and smile at him, "Maybe."

"Do you really know that many different flowers?"

"I know more, lots more, but some are too detailed to get out with icing," I respond as I continue.

I don't finish the cake today, but by the end of it, nearly three fourths of it is complete.

We both stand back to stare at it for a moment, admiring from a distance.

Haymitch pats me on the shoulder proudly, "It's nice to see that this hasn't changed."

I nod in agreement, "I want to see her, Haymitch."

He stops smiling and stares at me.

"I want to see Katniss," I repeat, "I think I need to."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Ah, it's good to be back. Review? Please? Even a little?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	18. Chapter 5 OPTB: Right Wrong

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option B<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

CONCERNS ABOUT OPTION A.

Did that grab yer attention enough?

Alright, I've had quite a few people that seem to be misunderstanding how Option A werks. Option A will be werking the same way the book does FER THE MOST PART.

I took out the stupid mutts in TBBA, and put Katniss and Peeta together at the beginning of PWPP, BUT fer the most part, it's the same the rest of the way through.

Katniss will still be a bitch to him. She's 'written him off' and moved onto Gale, just like in the books. But yeah, that's rly all that's changed, just they've had sex before. Lol.

Sorry if you were confused.

**Onto the real author's note:**

Not really much to say but I hope you didn't just get over biting yer nails, because you might start back up again.

This chapter and the next are PAINFUL. As is most of B, right, right? That's why we like it... right?

Option D as well will be relatively painful.

I apologize fer the long wait before I started updating again, I hope that updating every other day will help calm you all down. XP

And if you haven't heard ALREADY, the Hunger Games first trailer is tomorrow during the MTV music video awards and they'll have it up on their site after the show, so be prepared!

Alright, I'm done rambling fer now, read on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Sam: "Yeah, I'm totally anxious fer the trailer of Hunger Games. Hopefully it's not a gimpy teaser. Like the HP 7 Part 1 Teaser... like wtf. And I totally can't wait fer Dexter. Me, my bro, and my fiancé are SO stoked. My bro, Will, and I have been watching it together on Fridays, he just finished Season 3 yesterday, so he'll be all caught up fer Season 5 when it starts up. There's also Glee starting back up soon, which I'm also excited about. As fer the chapters, I had to go back and reread ALL OF ISDP just to make sure things didn't get dumb, lol, I was totally off my game coming back into it. But I'm refreshed now. Yer going to drop yer jaw with a lot of the Chapter fives. XP"

JennaGill: "A lot of people seem to get this confused. Do read the author's note above fer clarification."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I don't want you to go

Don't wanna see you back out in the cold

Air you're breathing out fades you to grey

Don't run away, find me

I know the battles of chasing the shadows of who you wanna be

It doesn't matter, go on and shatter

I'm all you need

Broken pieces, break into me

So imperfectly what you should be

Lay here, it's safe here, I'll let you be broken open

Hide here, confide here so we can be broken open

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 - Right Wrong<strong>

* * *

><p>My hand rests on her stomach, at home, at peace. It's the inside of me that isn't.<p>

It's the inside that's fighting itself, it's the heart fighting the brain, the guts fighting the heart. It's the emotions warring around.

And it terrifies me because I can't figure out which one is wrong to me and which one is right.

It should be obvious that beating her down is wrong, but the feeling I get when I think I'm doing it... _Is that wrong? Is it wrong that it feels right? Or is it right that it feels wrong and it doesn't matter if that's right or wrong?_

I can't decide.

And I can't decide if it's right to continue on with this relationship if all I can do is think about harming her._ She's pregnant. I love her._

I shouldn't have to convince myself that hurting her is wrong.

And how will I ever know if I'm hurting her or not? _What if I do hurt her? What if I hurt her really badly? What if I hurt the baby?_

I pull my hand up from her stomach and leave the bed.

"Peeta?"

I put on my shoes and back towards the door, "I just... I think I need some space."

The look she gives me breaks me. But I don't let it stop me from leaving the room to gain distance.

I'm not sure where I'm going immediately but it becomes obvious when I get there. I open the door to the gym and take up foot on one of their treadmills.

It's mindless, and I can't jog inside the building, so it works to relieve the energy buzzing inside of me.

I'm not a typical guy, but there are things that I can enjoy. The treadmill, lifting weights, they're mindless things that I use and have used before to forget what's going on around me.

_It's just overwhelming sometimes how well they work._

"Peeta?"

I let up the weight from my chest and settle it before sitting up to look towards the door.

Katniss is there, hand on her stomach as a new sort of comfort, her other hand on the door knob as she steps into the empty room, save me.

I look around, remembering others being there, and Katniss takes a seat on the bench.

"You're soaking with sweat," she says, touching my shoulder.

"I am?" I ask, glancing down at my shirt. It's darker than it should be, clearly, so I can only guess that it's all sweat, "What time is it?"

"You've been gone for hours," Katniss says, holding my towel to my cheek, "It's nearly time for dinner, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I say, panting, "I... I mean, I'm not fine. I need something to do, Katniss."

She raises a brow at me, "Something like what?"

I shrug, "I guess I want to try out for the war effort, see if I can make some difference. Just sitting around here, worrying, that doesn't help at all."

Katniss is angry immediately, "And what about me? What about our baby? Are you just going to leave us?"

"Obviously not, but I just can't sit here and waste away," I try to explain.

"You're not going out there just to get yourself killed."

"I'm not–"

"Is this because of what's been happening? Because you've been seeing things wrong?" She asks, watching me, her eyebrows down in frustration.

I shrug, "Maybe, maybe not but... Katniss, I... I need some space."

"What, more space?" She asks, furious now, "You've been in here for hours, Peeta. I left you alone for hours. That's not space?"

"No, it's not," I try to explain, "I need real space, real... **real space**."

Katniss tilts her head, "What do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean, I can't be with you like this–"

"Like what?"

I stand to walk away from her and when she tries to grab my arm I yank it away from her, turning to stare into her eyes as I move backwards, "I can't do this."

Her eyebrows go up as she realizes what I'm saying, "What... Peeta, I don't understand."

"You do," I confirm, "You understand. I just can't keep feeling like I'm going to hurt you, I'm sorry, Katniss."

I leave the room before she can say anything more, break-necking for our bedroom. Once I'm in it, I grab a few things and move them into the room that was originally mine, it's, thankfully, empty still.

My heart's racing, pounding in my ears as I climb into the shower of it, wash my body down and clean up as quick as possible.

I don't even bother getting dressed as I climb into the bed and curl up for sleep.

Leaving her was suppose to make me feel better, but I don't. I just feel worse. I feel like a coward, weak, like I couldn't handle it. Which makes me a victim. _Snow's victim._

_He's winning._

_This is just... just too strong for me._

I thought I could handle anything he did, _anything physical, yes. _But it's different with this. _How do you fight something so embedded in your mind?_

* * *

><p>The next morning I go to breakfast, but Katniss isn't there.<p>

The tray comes down on the table and Prim takes a seat across from me. She stares, she doesn't look angry, but she doesn't look happy either.

"You shouldn't stress her out so much," Prim says, "She's pregnant."

"I know–"

"With **your **baby."

"I," I stop and take a breath, "I know that Prim, obviously, I know that. I just–"

"Got cold feet?" Prim asks, raising a brow, "You don't want the baby anymore?"

I shake my head, "No, that's not it at all, of course I want the baby. It's mine, isn't it? I just don't want to do anything that might hurt it."

Prim stares at me now with the same raised brow, "What makes you think you might hurt it?"

"It's... it's nothing, it's my problem, Prim," I try to explain the best I can, "I just... It's complicated."

"It doesn't sound complicated to me," she says, "I never thought you were a coward, Peeta. You've always been so brave. So why now? Katniss needs you and you've been acting so strange ever since you got back–"

"Exactly," I say finally, ducking my head and staring at my food, "That's exactly it."

"What did they do to you?" Prim finally asks after a long moment of silence, "Was it really that bad?"

I shake my head as my eyes water, keeping it down so she doesn't see, "You can't even imagine it, Prim. It's so messed up."

Without a moment's hesitation, she's around the bench and pulling me into her arms for comfort.

"I can't even explain it," I say, not allowing myself to show anymore weakness than I already have, "I don't want to have to tell her what they did. But it's really messing me up."

"She needs you," Prim says softly, "She really does. Especially right now."

"What do you mean?" I ask, pulling my head from her shoulder, "Is Katniss alright?"

Prim looks guilty the second I ask it.

"Prim," I say, trying to keep myself calm, "Where is she?"

"She's in the hospital wing, she was so upset about last night and I guess she wasn't watching where she was walking and she fell down a flight of stairs–"

"Is she alright?" I ask, my heart hammering in my chest now, "The baby, is the baby alright?"

"They both are fine," Prim says, trying to calm me down, "She's just really upset and scared and–"

The shrill of a level 5 alarm fills the room, shrieking loudly and I look around.

Prim's eyes widen.

"What's going on?"

I don't even hesitate when I jump from the table and tear out of the room towards the hospital wing.

My heart, pounding out a rhythm with my feet, allows me to ignore the looks of concern, people staring at me as I run by them.

I can just see the turn for the hospital wing when I realize that I'm not going to make it.

The ground below my feet shudders as something hits nearby, maybe not as near as it feels, but the alarm they've been having trilling through the building stops, everything goes eerily silent as the ground continues to shake.

I keep running, stop when I see the nurses turning the corner, coming around with patients and-

"Katniss!"

She looks up to me, her eyes wide, and then the world around me explodes.

Reds and white, it's not as I would've imagined being blown up would be like, maybe just blackness.

I would've expected unconsciousness to come earlier.

The roof above me cracks and groans just before the next bomb hits and reaches down into the hallway.

Debris flies, the nurses are screaming, some running, and I struggle to get up and run to Katniss, who's moved into the nearest corner of the room.

I reach her, grab her up into my arms and take her backwards, back where she came from.

"Peeta!" She's saying so silently that I have to struggle to listen over the bombs landing around us, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't apologize," I tell her as I concentrate, "You didn't do anything wrong."

I grab the door to one of the maintenance rooms and open it, it's own set of alarms start going off but I ignore it and shove Katniss inside.

"What are we doing?" She asks, looking around.

"I'm not entirely sure, but it seems safer than the halls, doesn't it?" I ask, staring at her and trying to smile as the next bomb falling rocks the ground. I grab her arms and pull her close, "Come on."

We move further back through the room until I find one of the large tubes connected into the wall and kick the screening of it down.

I help Katniss in first and follow after her, cover her body with mine as we curl close.

She stares up at me silently as we lay down tightly together, the bombs still landing, still digging deep into District Thirteen.

"He waited until we were comfortable, didn't he?"

I nod, running my hand through her hair, it was down from it's braid and messy from the struggle in the hall.

"I love you," I say softly, staring at her, "I didn't want to leave you because I was having cold feet or anything, it's just that... sometimes... I can't tell the difference between what I see and what I do to you. And that... scares me."

She stares at me, shifting her head on top of my right arm, "What do you see yourself doing?"

"Hurting you," I whisper, trying not to bother her with it, "And I never know if I am. The things you say, the things I see, they twist sometimes. I asked you if I had raped you, remember?"

She nods, "You thought you'd hit me."

"Yeah," I confirm, "I tried to be rough with you on purpose, to see if it would appear gentle instead. But when I saw your face, I thought I'd really hurt you. I'm still not sure if I did. You seemed upset, and then you'd seemed alright. I'm just... I'm not sure which one is really happening."

"So when we make love," she says slowly, staring at me, "Sometimes, you see the whole thing like you're raping me?"

I nod.

She covers her mouth, face changing to a dark shade of red.

"I don't want to see that, Katniss," I whisper, running my hand over her belly, "I want to see you happy. And I can't."

She nods in understanding, "Is that what they did to you? When you were in there, they made you see these things?"

"I don't know how it works, I'm not sure," I try to explain.

"And when you said that the way they made you feel about me, made you kill some of their people," She continues on, "Because they were making you feel excited... about raping me?"

I nod guiltily, _there it is, there it is right there._

"It horrified you, you said, and you couldn't control yourself," she whispers, "It's not your fault, Peeta."

Full disclosure, that has to be the way I handle this from now on.

"I feel like Cato when I do it," I whisper, "In my mind, I hit you, and I shove you around. And it... excites me."

She runs her hand over my cheek and nods, "But it's not you, Peeta. I know you. You would never do that. It's something that is out of your control. And we'll get through it together. Like we always do."

_Like we always do_, and as I look around the tunnel we're in, the shudders becoming stronger, even now, hearing the crumbling destruction of District Thirteen. _How many have died already? How many are going to be dead once it's done? Prim? Katniss's mother? Haymitch? Finnick and Annie?_

I run my fingers through Katniss's hair again and press my head to hers, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"You didn't–"

"When I left," I explain, "When I wanted to break it off. I want this baby, and I want you, but I was scared that I was going to hurt you both."

She leans forward and presses her lips to mine.

My shaking fingers touch her face, grab her close to me, press our bodies together as the bombing reaches directly over us at last.

The explosion of ground and stone tears through the comfort and silence and rips my arms from Katniss.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Reviews are very, very much loved!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	19. Chapter 5 OPTC: Reach For Control

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option C<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Was a day late, but what can I say? I had a lot of stuff to do yesterday. Also had a lot to do today but I wanted to get this out there into the verse!

You all see the teaser and enjoy it? Because I know I did. ^^

I don't need to blather on tho so enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

JennaGill (who still doesn't accept responses the easy way XP): "Hehe, Morphling. XP And yeah, all the Peetas rly are having a hard time atm. ^^;."

janey: "Yeah, Peeta's really trying to make himself miserable, isn't he? Thank you so much fer enjoying my writing and such. It's great to have so many readers satisfied with my werk."

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I need another story,

Something to get off my chest.

My life gets kinda boring.

Need something that I can confess.

'Til all my sleeves are stained red,

From all the truth that I've said.

Come by it honestly, I swear.

Thought you saw me wink, no.

I've been on the brink, so,

Tell me what you want to hear,

Something that'll light those ears.

I'm sick of all the insincere,

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 - Reach For Control<strong>

* * *

><p>District Two is a direct waste of my time as people argue over methods of flushing out the inhabitants of the 'nut'. But the worst part of it is that both Katniss and Gale have followed me here.<p>

Whether it's Haymitch's idea of a joke, I'll never know, but it's overwhelming to have them both here. To see them eating at a nearby table, with Katniss always clutching Gale's arm, laughing with him. And to see his nervous looks directed towards me.

It's everything I can do, not to lurch forward and strangle him or something while we eat. Everything I can do to stop myself from screaming at her: "It's me, not him, I'm the one you should be with. You loved _me_."

But my inability to be that selfish, at this point, stops me every time; stops me from ruining Gale's life again and confusing Katniss. I've done enough damage to them both already.

I owe them some sort of happiness together, however short it might be during this war. And it's not like it's horrible to see her happy, just horrible to know it's not _me _making her that way. But I can still enjoy her smile, celebrate it, in some sort of silent way.

During the days, I go out on my own and hunt. It's mostly just time to rest and enjoy the silence, in which I barely bring back anything, but it's just enough to enjoy the familiarity of it that I miss so much.

I go out early, and get back in later and later each day.

Today, I've settled down in the usual tree which now has wear spots in the bark from my boots. I'm seated there for nearly ten minutes before anything particularly appealing shows itself.

Big, a sort of deer, stag, or fawn, I'm not sure. Different than what I'm use to, but I ready my bow. For something this large, I have to be fast.

It get's comfortable while I prepare, stringing the arrow and allowing it the idea that it's safe before I release.

Another arrow hits it just a second after mine and the deer crumples, thrashes, and Katniss leaps down from her spot to take the deer down completely with a dagger in her palm.

She surprised even me.

But she surprises me more when she flicks her bangs from her eyes and looks up to my tree, "You're a good shot."

I climb down from my spot and it's her that is surprised this time, I guess because she wasn't expecting it to be me that shot the deer.

"It's not in the eye."

She smiles but stops and stares at me, her head sort of tilting to the side, "Shush," she says slowly, looking confused.

My heart speeds up as I watch her, as she remembers.

She reaches out to me, "Peeta."

I back up from her and walk away as fast as possible, grabbing my arrow from the Deer's neck and start to run as she shouts for me to wait.

In the minutes of running, trekking, I steer through the heavy snow and trees until I return to the camp, to the rest of the morning people, and Gale looks up from his boots and sees me.

"Something wrong?" He asks, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I shake my head, ignoring him and running past the camp, out into the wilderness on the opposite side. I can hunt out here, in lack of company.

* * *

><p>Later on, once I've gotten back from my hunting, I'm requested by the camera crew to do a few interviews and short recordings. I join them, walking about and explaining the progression of the war effort, giving thanks to those families involved and to the lives lost so far, the many that will follow.<p>

"Katniss and I have been working together for the people of Panem and we will continue to fight this enemy until the very end," I say to the camera, staring deep into it, "We're just as strong as ever now, and we will do everything in our power to make sure we succeed."

"Cut," Cressida says, grinning wide, "Brilliant Peeta–"

"Peeta Mellark!"

We all turn together to see Katniss standing nearby, arms folded and eyebrow raised.

"Katniss?" I ask, watching her wearily. _How much has she heard? I thought I was being aware enough to notice someone coming up to listen._

"I want to talk to you alone," she says, eyeing the camera crew.

I excuse them and, as they leave, Katniss storms up to me and jams something into my open palm.

"What–" I stop and look down at the pearl, "What–"

"You're too good of a liar, Peeta Mellark," she says, her eyebrows narrowing, "'Katniss and I have been working together', right. Gale couldn't explain this, but I think you can."

I finger the pearl, tracing my thumb over it before pocketing the small, offensive object.

"It's a pearl," I say, putting my hand in after it, "Gale couldn't have told you that?"

Katniss glares coldly at me, "Yes, but where did it come from?"

I shrug but she flares up unexpectedly.

"Don't lie to me!" She says, louder than usual, "Don't _you _lie to me, Peeta. Where did the pearl come from? You gave it to me, didn't you?"

"I–" I reach out to grab her arm, to calm her down, but she'll have none of it. She slams her fist down on my chest and grabs my shirt, trying to shake me.

"Tell me," she demands.

I imagine that my eyes are as wide as saucers at this point, but I'm getting more angry as she shouts.

"Alright!" I say, yell, but try to hold back my obvious fear and concern, "Alright, I'll tell you, okay."

She lets go of my shirt and stares, waiting.

I rub it, fix the stretches she's made in it as best as I can, "I gave you the pearl, in the arena, when we were fishing with Finnick."

Katniss looks confused again, "But I don't remember that."

"Of course you don't," I say, turning away from her, "I don't know why you don't, but something Snow did, I guess. Well, it... it doesn't matter any more. What's done is done."

"You've... you hate me," she whispers and I feel her fingers brush down the middle of the back of my shirt, "That's what you said, that I was some stupid girl."

"Yes, that's what I said," I manage out, fighting back tears. Part of me, some part of me is angry that she could forget me, that it was **possible **for her to forget me. I can't help thinking over that, and it's the only thing that stops me from turning to her and telling her everything.

"Peeta–"

"Shut up, Katniss," I hiss, turning to her, I've got my tears under control and distort my face into as much anger and fury as I can. If what I said before wasn't enough, then I really have to lay it on now. I **really **have to hurt her.

I have to wound every part of her.

"You don't understand at all," I explain, "You keep bothering me with all of this stupid, ridiculous stuff. A pearl, you think a pearl means _anything _to me?"

I pull it from my pocket and throw it as far as I can.

"No!" She shouts, turning after it but I stop her.

I grab her arm and force her to look at me, "Leave it alone, Katniss. And leave _me _alone. I don't care about you and your stupid games. I never did. Is that what you want to remember? Do you really want to remember anything you and I have ever done? Why don't you just go back to your stupid boyfriend and leave me alone?"

Tears fall down her face as she stares up at me, "Peeta–"

This is the first time I've ever seen her so afraid.

"Why can't you just be happy with him?" I'm losing control of myself now, losing hold on the anger, the words, "**Be happy with him**, Katniss. It's all I have to give, it's all I can do."

I shove her away, watch her lose her balance and fall back into the snow.

It's the second time today that I storm away, and once I get back into civilization, I order them to take me back to Thirteen. I know it's useless, it's useless to keep running, but at least in Thirteen she doesn't know where my sleeping quarters are.

* * *

><p>The entire ride, I can't stop thinking about the look of fear and concern in her eyes when I threw the pearl.<p>

She didn't even know what it meant to us, but she still had that sort of feeling deep inside of her, that I was tossing away something precious.

_But it's gone now. It's gone. Just like our history together. Just like memories that I'll remember, memories that can bother me, memories that she was capable of forgetting._

It's this thought that breaks me down into pieces in front of everyone. The men around me shift uncomfortably as I crumble.

I always knew it would be Katniss, in some form, that broke me beyond repair. Whether it was her death, her torture, her falling for Gale, or choosing him over me, or just getting tired of me, I guess I always knew that something would happen. That I couldn't stay happy forever.

I just didn't know it would have to be me, me, to be the one that forced her to take him.

Technically, I'm the only thing stopping her from remembering me. She's doing a good job on her own, and if I contributed even a little, just a little, she might remember everything.

It could be something so small, to trigger those thoughts for her, a word or phrase, an image.

I'm hoping though, that in time, she'll just stop trying, that if I'm rude enough to her, that she'll stop trying to remember memories of me.

She might think or assume that the memories might not be the best of things to remember.

And if Gale is really worth something to her, she'll just stop trying.

I thought I had decided to get over this angst before. But she just keeps coming back again.

Hopefully now she's gotten the picture.

* * *

><p>Back in Thirteen, I'm immediately greeted by Finnick and Annie, who have an amusing enough request for me.<p>

Finnick wraps an arm over my shoulders as we walk.

"I was wondering if you'd like to make our wedding cake," he says softly, watching me, "I know things have been hard since Katniss got back, but I was hoping you'd consider this."

"Consider?" I ask, grinning ear to ear, "Not even, of course I'll do it, Finnick, you never need to ask for anything from me. You saved my life."

Finnick smiles and looks to Annie, "Well, you saved mine too. We're even."

"We're also friends," I say, patting him on the back reassuringly, "And if it's anything I can do, I'd rather it be me than anyone else making you're cake."

That said, it is a sort of punch in the gut, but I can ignore it enough, making a cake would be a good outlet for stress at this time. And Finnick leads me to the kitchens where they've set up everything I'd need for a District Four, water theme, wedding cake.

It's nice to see that I haven't lost my touch, either. I'm done with their cake within the day and the nagging of Katniss and Gale is more of a dull ache than anything at this point.

Once I'm done with it though, I can't help but want to do more, so I embark on a search for the head of the bakery.

He's a large man, not at all unlike my father, built for the stove and lifting bags of flour. He has a thick mustache and greets me with a wide grin.

"Well, hello there, Peeta Mellark," he greets, patting me on the back, "Did you enjoy making the cake?"

"I did," I agree, looking around the kitchen staff, "I was wondering if you'd do me a favor, though."

"Anything."

"Could I... Could I maybe man the bread?" I ask, "I just need an idea of what you do, but I'd like to get back into some sort of work."

He stares down at me and grins, "You want to _work_?"

"I do."

He nods then and pats my back again, "Alright, if that's what you want, but I hope you can be quick, we have a lot of mouths to feed. I'm Barry, by the way."

"Barry," I repeat as he leads me around to a group of people working at one counter.

"These guys are the ones that prepare the dough, but I imagine you're use to making it all of the way through?"

I look from the group, back up to him, "Yes sir, our bakery was smaller and we did it all in batches."

Barry just grins wide and nods, "Alright, we'll leave three trays and a stove for you, and you can make your own sets, if you want."

"Sounds good," I say nervously and he leaves me to it.

Another man, one less intimidating, takes me to a counter and sets about gathering ingredients. He shows me the flour, the grains, and gives me gloves and a space for my own work.

I toss the gloves though, take the bowl and begin preparing the dough.

It's mindless work that I can't help finding comfortable and I get lost in it over the rest of the day.

By the end, I've probably baked over three hundred rolls, and the muscles in my arms are sore from the lack of practice beforehand.

* * *

><p>Baking for the people of Thirteen is easily more comfortable than sitting around trying to think of orders, plots and details. <em>I can get use to this.<em>

It's gotten down to baking as often as possible, stopping for a bite to eat, or bathroom break, but I don't like pulling away from it for too long. _If I bury myself in this, maybe Katniss will forget I exist. And she won't come looking for me in the kitchen, will she?_

_When she comes back, if she does, she won't know where to look for me. And I can just... move on._

I take off the apron and leave the kitchen, waving to Barry before setting off for my quarters. It's late, later than usual, but a few of the other workers were out sick, so a lot of us had to pick up the slack. So I offered as much of my time as possible.

"Peeta."

It's Haymitch coming down the hall just behind me, and I can't ignore him, so I turn back to let him catch up.

"I heard you bailed out on Two," he starts.

"I heard you sent over Gale and Katniss just to spite me," I retort, not giving him a chance to explain his concerns.

Haymitch frowns, "You can't keep running from them, Peeta. They're both in your life. You need to tell her."

"I don't need to tell her anything," I say, raising my voice to him, "And they wouldn't be in my life so much if you didn't keep sending them after me."

"Peeta–"

"She found the pearl," I say then and he closes his mouth, "And she still doesn't remember a thing. So just leave it, Haymitch."

Haymitch glares and shrugs, "So I guess you don't want to know what happened."

"No, I probably don't."

I turn from him to continue walking when he says something that chills me down to the marrow of my bones.

"Katniss was shot."

My footsteps fall short then and I turn to look at him, "Is she–"

"She's here, in the hospital. It doesn't look good, Peeta."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	20. Chapter 5 OPTD: What We Have Left

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Back again, finally.

Ugh, the past two weeks have just be the most stressful.

I'm keeping it together tho, writing this fanfic is total remedy fer my fucking soul. XP Uh yeah, anyways, it's good to be back.

Hopefully there will be no more breaks, I'm tired of not writing.

And I don't really have much to say, just excited about Dexter and Glee, and Hunger Games, gosh I have such odd interests. O.o

Er, follow my twitter if you haven't already, you slackers, and let's get on with the chapter!

Thank you all so much fer reading and being patient with me, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Emilie: "Oh, tyty, writing little argue scenes are so much fun to me. I love emotional stuff and have had plenty of practice with it in my own life. I think a lot of it stems from that."

Kiki691: "Just because he's doing something that the book!Peeta hasn't done, that doesn't make him ooc. I think everyone has totally felt fer him and more or less agreed. I, on the other hand, write it the way I want it."

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Will you guide me now, for I can't see,

A reason for the suffering and this long misery.

What if every living soul could be upright and strong?

Well, then I do imagine,

There will be sorrow.

Yeah, there will be sorrow.

And there will be sorrow, no more.

When all soldiers lay their weapons down,

Or when all kings and all queens relinquish their crowns,

Or when the only true messiah rescues us from ourselves,

It's easy to imagine,

There will be sorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 - What We Have Left<strong>

* * *

><p><em>It's almost a terrifying thought.<em>

_Almost._

But as we pack away our belongings and prepare for the journey, an odd sense of comfort swells over me. I feel eased, almost happy, that I'm leaving this place.

Katniss, sitting by me, watching me pack things, folds a simple shirt and hands it to me.

"Can I do something else?" She asks, "I'm bored."

I stop packing and look up to her, with which she responds by raising a brow.

"Please," I argue back, "I've got this covered."

"It would go by much faster if you let me do something."

I put down the shirt and bag in my hands and move to her, climbing over her, "Oh, is that so?"

She laughs, giggles even, as I start to kiss down her jaw and neck.

"I'm not good enough on my own?" I ask, fingers tracing over her stomach, "I'd be a lot faster if you stopped distracting me."

Katniss grabs the back of my neck to pull me closer and bites softly around the shell of my ear, "We have time, don't we?"

I pull back to look into her eyes before grinning wide, "Sure."

* * *

><p>After we've packed our things and joined up with Katniss's mother and Prim, we head immediately out of the entrance doors to the inside of District Thirteen.<p>

Haymitch was reluctant at first, but once he realized that we were serious, he agreed to come along, he was positive we would survive, but he didn't want to lose the connection forever. Not yet, maybe.

I guess we were closer to him than he intended us to be.

And in the first hours of walking, breaks, water, and pauses to pee, it was more uncomfortably silent than any of us expected, I think.

Haymitch, surprisingly, didn't complain once.

The walking was slow, exhausting, but both Katniss and I enjoyed it more than anyone else. Obviously because we were more familiar with it. But well into the third hour, food was becoming a necessity.

A time in which both Katniss and I strayed outwards to hunt for game and brought back a good few rabbits.

With our first day behind us, successful at least, we find an old, worn, abandoned shack and settle down in it for the night. If, at least, to have shelter.

The cold is overwhelming but we make a couple fires and curl close together for the night.

Now that it's behind us, I'd prefer this more than ever over staying in 13 with Coin.

* * *

><p>The shaking of the ground jars me awake immediately.<p>

It's unlike anything I've ever felt before and I jump up to look for Katniss but she's not in my arms where she should be.

I don't have to look far because she's standing at the door of the shack and staring out.

It's night time, but the sky beyond her is lit up, like it's on fire.

"Is that Thirteen?" she asks softly as I stand up from the blankets and walk over to her.

Prim and her mother are still fast asleep, but Haymitch is awake, sitting outside as well, staring out at the fire rising high into the sky.

Another ground shudder and I'm at Katniss's side, wrapping my arm around the front of her belly. I look out, far past the trees to the bombing that's happening.

"Have we really walked that far?" I can't help sounding surprised, but my legs ache enough to confirm it.

Katniss nods numbly, her hand coming down to rest over my large paw, my hands are always so much bigger than hers, the pads of her fingers drown in the spaces between mine.

"Yeah," Haymitch mumbles softly, "That's Thirteen," he confirms finally.

"Do we keep going?" Katniss asks suddenly, "Or should we walk back and help them out?"

I rest my chin on her head as Haymitch throws us a weary look, _it's not like we can get a room_, "No, we left already, I say we keep going."

Haymitch, to my surprise, nods.

Katniss looks back to me, "We could've been in that. If we'd stayed, even a day more. We could've been bombed too."

I lean in and press my lips to hers, cup her cheek in my large hand as the other one still rests over her swollen stomach, "I won't let that happen," I whisper after we part, "You know I won't, Katniss."

_Because I'd do everything in and out of my power to protect her._

She turns her whole body to stare up into my eyes, to look at my promises before she smiles and kisses me again, "We're lucky to be alive right now, and it's because of you."

The ground continues to rock below us as Thirteen gets bombed, destroyed by what we can only conclude is the Capitol, Snow.

I'm not sure anyone could survive a bombing like that, unless they were forewarned. I hope they were, or that at least the bulk of them are alright. Annie, Finnick, Johanna, Chaff, Mags.

Katniss and I walk back to the blankets together and she curls up in my arms again, both of us staring out at the flames, the hovercrafts in the sky miles away.

_District Thirteen destroyed. _

It doesn't even strike fear in me any more. The idea of being bombed. The idea of a home we've just left to be bombed less than a day afterwards.

Katniss's fingers trace over where the bullet hit my right peck, she's silent, softly breathing as she does it.

* * *

><p>The next morning we're awoken by the loudest sound, new from last nights bombing.<p>

Katniss jumps from my embrace and I reach my hands up to the sides of her arms to calm her back down.

"Some explosion," Haymitch says from the door.

I glance out past him to see dark smoke rising into the sky, "Have you been up all night?"

Haymitch turns to us and sits back down in the worn chair he's adopted and moved since last night, from the outside, "Couldn't sleep."

I can understand that well enough, "Do you think anyone's left alive?"

He shrugs but says something unrelated, "We should keep going, get some more distance today."

Katniss sighs in annoyance and buries her face into my chest.

I share a look with Haymitch before turning Katniss's body onto it's back and holding her tightly in my arms.

"Are you up for it?" I ask her, softly kissing her jaw, clearing her bangs from in front of her eyes.

"I have to be," she says.

"No, you don't," I correct her, "Do you think you can walk?"

She glares at me when I rub my hand over her stomach to remind her that there's more to worry about than her pride.

"Alright," she says, "I might be able to walk for a little while, but my feet still feel really bad."

I nod and we both rise to join Prim and Katniss's mother for breakfast.

Everyone eats patiently, taking their time and sharing looks.

Haymitch, who's mostly eating his bread, stares out at the smoke and shakes his head.

"What was it, do you think?" I ask from my seat by Katniss.

He shrugs again, "Maybe a late explosion, something that took damage last night but only got bad just now, maybe there's a fire or something. I don't know. It could've been anything."

"When did they stop bombing last night?" Prim asks.

"After nearly thirty minutes or more, once everyone got to sleep."

The way he says this bothers me, like we're sleeping while other people's lives are being taken.

I watch his expression, but I know Haymitch well enough that anything he's feeling is well hidden. It's difficult to ask the next question.

"Are you disappointed in me?" I ask and everyone turns to me, but I'm looking at Haymitch.

"What makes you think that?"

I look out to the cloud of smoke, "I was the one that made the final decision in us leaving–"

"You have your wife and child to protect," he says then, "That's your job. You don't owe them anything in District Thirteen, you've done enough."

I nod, trying to imagine what's really going through his head, trying to figure out if he's being honest enough. Haymitch can hide anything.

"I'm running away from a war that I was a part in starting, though," I argue back.

Haymitch shakes his head, "It was a war starting long before you were born, Peeta. You and Katniss gave them enough strength to actually stand up for themselves. If they can't handle this, if they can't win, then it's no one's fault. Least of all your's and Katniss's. You both have your own lives to worry about."

"We could've helped–"

"Stop beating yourself up, Peeta," Haymitch says, he sounds angry, honestly angry but the look on his face is warm, worried, and amused, "You've always been like that, blaming things on yourself. Don't do it with **this**. You're first duty is to your family, not the one you've lost, but the one you have now, the one you're starting. Worry if your child will see your eyes first, before you plan on taking on world hunger."

Katniss stares up at Haymitch with wide eyes and then turns to me, resting her hand on my shoulder, "Peeta?"

I nod, "I know. I'm just... I guess it bothers me, that I'm leaving this behind."

"You won't think that when she goes into labor," he says, tilting his head to Katniss.

Her face reddens considerably, "Can we start walking now?"

Katniss's mother and Prim, despite being silent before, allow a soft laugh before standing to help pack things up.

* * *

><p>It's not ten minutes into the walk that Katniss becomes completely exhausted.<p>

She stops walking, starts to set down her stuff when I grab her up into my arms and begin to carry her.

"Well," she says, looking down below her body at my arms, "Alright."

Prim giggles at us, taking Katniss's pack from the ground, "Are you going to be okay carrying her all day?"

I glance down at Prim and shrug, "Maybe not all day, but I think I've got this for a while."

Katniss stays curled close in my arms as we walk, until she falls asleep, I can imagine that she was up most of last night, worrying about the people of Thirteen, about the families that are being destroyed as we walk away.

_And what will become of this distance we're setting? Is it possible the Capitol could still find us? Reach us, even though we're disconnected?_

_Could we still be pulled into it?_

And I can't stop thinking of it over the hours of walking, Katniss comes in and out of sleep, warm and wrapped up in her jacket as we tread through snow and trees.

My arms only ache slightly now, they were worse before, but it's dulled at this point and Katniss offers to finally walk again.

"Are you sure?" I ask, still offering to hold her up, _I can carry her much longer than this_.

Katniss nods, "I'm sure, you're arms must be tired–"

"They're fine," I assure her.

She grins slyly and struggles out of my arms, "I want to walk some, I need to."

I finally let her down and she steps a little stiff at first before becoming accustomed to it again.

It's nearly night time once more, nearly time to start looking for a place to sleep when we find something out of the norm.

Katniss runs to the pole coming up from the ground, precarious, like a tree, but not.

"What is it?" I can't help asking as she inspects it.

"I'm not sure," she mumbles as we reach her, "It's like a tree," _so she thinks the same as I do._

Her hands wrap around it before pulling up the long dark wire hanging down the length, "What's this?" she asks, tugging at where it stretches up to the top of the pole.

"Wire?" Haymitch mumbles.

"It's not going anywhere," she says and starts to pull the other end until she finds where it's been broken.

The wires jut and tangle out, old, dirty, and ripped. Just ways away is a fallen tree.

Katniss glances at it, "The tree fell, and broke it?"

Prim walks out around the tree and then we hear her go silent.

"Prim?" Katniss asks.

"There's another pole over here," she says from out of our sight, "And it's got the other end of the wire."

"It's man made," Katniss's mother says, "Clearly. The wooden pole isn't a tree, it's buried into the ground."

"Electricity," I find myself saying out loud, "I mean, we put it under ground now, but before the war everything was up above ground, right? Telephone poles and electric lines, right?"

Katniss nods, "So we've found an old city?"

"Hey, over here!"

The four of us look up to see Prim out a ways away, pointing to something on the ground.

We jog up to her to see what it is. Just in front of her is a solid, stone ground, cracked, old, worn, but it's clearly the beginning of a road.

We follow along it, the anticipation and curiosity growing.

"Cities have homes," Prim says, obviously, "How old do you think it is?"

_Old, very old, so old that the earth has began growing through the road under our feet._

We don't have to even walk that long though before we find the first house. The sign indicating to it is the old style mail box at the beginning of it's own road, rusted, broken and laying on the ground, but it's obviously a mail box.

Prim lifts it up in her hands as we follow the overgrown road, though still slightly distinguished.

The house we find is worn but stable, stone, instead of the old wooden cottage we were sleeping in last night.

"How can people just leave a whole city behind?" Katniss asks nervously as we walk up the steps of the house.

"Maybe because they didn't."

We turn to the sound of the voice as a group of people advance around us. Their guns are pointed and we're surrounded, outnumbered.

"Maybe they still live here."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Ty all fer reading! Love loves! And er, review plz? Show more loves? ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	21. Chapter 6 OPTA: Trying

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Big news fer me, and maybe you all might want to know,

I'm moving. Yes, actually moving, not to Canada, not yet. But I'm moving from my apartment back to a place that I might be able to call home. It's closer to family and more convenient.

I'm ALSO starting up werk again on Thursday. This Thursday. Yeah, I know. Exhausting, but hopefully this will give me more money, need that. Can't just write.

Internet might be a small issue fer a little while, MAYBE, but I should have time to write. I'll try and get some more writing done before I have to start packing, so that can give me a boost with posts.

ALSO, I'm SO TOTALLY PUMPED fer like all of the Options right now, C is just amazing, D is hella crazed, A is getting to some of my favorite parts, and B is... Well, it's B, need I say more?

ALSO, I'm just saying, but there's a surprise after this update, soon, maybe tomorrow or so. Might shock yer socks off.

I love all of you, you guys are awesome, glad you've stuck around! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

All I know,

Is everything is not as it's sold.

But the more I grow, the less I know.

And I have lived so many lives,

Though I'm not old.

And the more I see, the less I grow.

The fewer the seeds, the more I sow.

I wish I hadn't seen all of the realness.

And all the 'real people' are really not real at all.

The more I learn, the more I learn.

The more I cry, the more I cry.

As I say goodbye to the way of life,

I thought I had designed for me.

Then I see you standing there,

Wanting more from me,

And all I can do is try.

Then I see you standing there,

I'm all I'll ever be,

But all I can do is try.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 - Trying<strong>

* * *

><p>They're going to try something new to me today. I know because the doctor tells me.<p>

It's good that they're allowing me the knowledge of change, it's comforting because it's different than what Snow did.

It's even more comforting because I think I **need **to know, I probably shouldn't be subjected to surprise when I get so upset so easily.

This time, today, they play a recording for me. The feeling of panic at the sight of her is overwhelming as the video plays out.

_Katniss sits against me and asks: "Did I ever tell you about how I got Prim's goat?"_

I watch me on the screen as I shake my head and she begins to explain,_ "It was a Friday evening, the day just before Prim turned ten, late in May..."_

The story plays out until this sickly version of me mentions how they both are like Katniss, her mother and Prim. _How she's nurtured me, I'm sure, I think that's what I meant._

But the screen blacks out and they turn on the lights of the room.

The doctor comes up and I feel a calm swell over my mind, calm from the story, from Katniss. It's like I'm comforted by seeing her and me like this; close together, in the cave.

I remember feeling like that then, when I was with her.

I can't take my eyes from the screen, can't take my mind from that moment, staring up at the black screen as I play back the memory in my head.

I can smell the cave, feel the discomfort of it, the sting of my leg, when I had it. I can even remember the tastes in my mouth and the feel of her lips; the lamb stew in the cave.

Whether she was playing it up, or was a mutt, that doesn't stop how I felt and how she made me feel.

I glance up finally when I feel a particular presence come close to me.

"Peeta?"

The doctor by my side looks concerned and I try to push away the overwhelming tidal wave of emotions that's taking over.

I can only grasp on to tiny details of what Katniss's story means.

_District Twelve was bombed, _I remember that, and Katniss's old house can't possibly be in the shape it was then. And even when she moved out of it and into the Victor's Village, I don't remember seeing that goat at all.

The doctor smiles as I blink up at him.

"How are you feeling, Peeta?" He asks softly, as if not to startle me.

"So, was the goat real?"

His eyebrows narrow as he stares down at me, "The goat?"

"The goat in her story," I try to explain, "Was it real, or did she make that up for the cameras? Did it die?"

"I don't know," he answers finally and I'm immediately put out.

_I'll never know if it was real, and even if it was, it's probably dead from the explosion._

* * *

><p>The next time they play a video for me, it's not a memory I know.<p>

It's Katniss, yes, clearly Katniss. And she's singing to these trees of Mockingjays out around our home in District Twelve.

I stare up at the screen this time as the song chills through me.

"_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Where the dead man called out for his love to flee._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

My mind isn't able to hold back the first image of her father, the first image I associate with the song.

* * *

><p>Katniss's father, the strong, tall man, walking into the bakery.<p>

I had gotten home from school that day and just put away my books, I'd even stopped by the back stove to make sure that the bread in one of the ovens wasn't burning.

Sometimes, they would smell like they were burning, to me, but I was always so afraid of that so I could've just been imagining it in my head.

Katniss's father came into the bakery nearly everyday. He was so much bigger than her mother and her, but not nearly as wide shouldered as my father.

They were both pretty bulky men, but for completely different reasons.

* * *

><p>"Good evening, Mister Everdeen," my dad says as he turns back to me and asks for a loaf of Three Grain from the back.<p>

He means **warm**, I always know he means 'warm' for Mister Everdeen.

I run to the back and grab the large towel to pull down the handle of the oven. It's set low to keep a few warm and I grab out the first one with my left hand, my left, which is covered in the largest oven mitts, able to fit on my head but just barely on my father's hands.

I bag the bread as my dad and Mister Everdeen talk.

"She's a beautiful girl," Katniss's father is saying, _about Prim_, I think, "Too innocent compared to Katniss."

_Katniss,_ I can't help smiling, and my stomach does turns. _Katniss and her singing._

And just as I'm thinking this, Mister Everdeen walks from the counter to look at the cakes on display.

He starts humming to his self softly at first.

My father walks into the back where I am, smiles at me, and puts up his apron.

"Give him the bread, Peeta," he tells me. He knows I will, but he says so just to be sure.

I watch him leave, up the stairs, to tell my brothers that we're closing.

Mister Everdeen has went from just humming now, to singing.

I'm immediately aware of the birds going silent on top of the bakery roof, just like my father said they would, _just like they did for Katniss._

"_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

_I don't know what a hanging tree is, _but the song makes me sad, and I can't help wondering why they need to be free.

As he ends the song, Mister Everdeen turns to me suddenly and holds out his hand for the bread.

I move closer and give it to him.

"You paint the cakes?" he asks softly, then points down at the one I remember doing this morning, "This one here, right?"

It startles me that he would know something like that and I feel my face heat up as I look from the bread, to his hand, to the cake, and then back up to his face.

I almost feel guilty._ Most adults don't talk to me unless I do something wrong._

"This one was done by you, right?"

I nod, "I only do the lilies." I honestly can't think of anything more to say to him. This moment, right here, I'm reminded of why my father doesn't hate Mister Everdeen.

I always wondered before how my dad could settle for my mom, lose Katniss's mother, and still **like **this guy. But when I'm around Mister Everdeen, I can feel it, the comfort that comes from having someone around you that's concerned for everyone.

He's a strong guy, he's a capable guy, and he still goes out of his way to be kind and courteous to others.

My dad's a great man, but I can see why Katniss's mother loves Mister Everdeen now.

He doesn't even know me, but he knows my cakes.

I watch him scratch his beard stubble and smile at the displays, "You've got a good eye for detail, Peeta. Soon, you'll be painting all of these cakes."

I want to know how he knows it's mine, so I ask.

Mister Everdeen just laughs and points out something to me that I don't think of often.

"A flower is a **plant**, Peeta," he says at first, "And I've seen your mothers try at cakes, she's not very good. I've seen your fathers, and they're sort of like flowers. Both of your brothers make them look sort of like a cartoon."

I tilt my head as he explains, but he goes silent and I'm so impatient, _I have to know._

"Well, what do **mine **look like?"

He fingers the bread in his hand, putting it in his hunting bag, looks at the soft white lily again and then says: "They look like flowers."

This is what gets me thinking about the way that I paint _my lilies_.

The way I looked them up in as many pictures as I could, how I stared at them for hours, the shadows, the lighting.

_Mister Everdeen is right,_ I think. _Mine do look like flowers._

The next time I paint one like I did that day, which isn't often, I'm glad that I can now make a flower instead of a cake.

* * *

><p>I explain this memory in detail to the doctor that comes to me after the video plays.<p>

He's surprised, but satisfied, at what I'm not sure.

Finally, he puts down his pin and helps to release me from the bed, "would you like to go and work on the wedding cake some more?"

I nod, of course I do, these memories of the bakery and Katniss's father make me long to get my hands painting again.

"Today you can make the actual cake for them," he says as he cuffs my hands and the guards stand around listening but not including themselves.

"And to what theme?" I ask.

"Sea," he says, "Of course. For Annie and Finnick."

I know it's for Annie and Finnick already, but as he says their names, I'm overwhelmed with joy that the two of them can finally be happy together, no more Capitol to shop Finnick around, no more fear of the Games for Annie.

_I want to make their cake amazing._

* * *

><p>Orange Cup Corals and gentle Sea Flowers, it's hard to stop myself from expecting them to sway back and forth.<p>

Now that I've finished it, a few days after the memory of the Hanging Tree song, I watch them roll it away for the wedding. I wish I could go, but I know I can't be trusted out there. _Just in case Katniss is around._

Even now, I don't know what to think of her.

I imagine that I have some sort of power over myself at this point, but I don't want to upset Finnick and Annie on their special day if I slip.

The doctor leads me back to my room and I'm strapped back down to the bed, left to relax for the rest of the day.

It's been grueling, getting the cake done in time for the wedding, but I'm almost painting as fast as I use to, and keeping my hands from shaking has become relatively easy now.

I'm not sure how long I lay like this, thinking over the cake and the sea flowers when the doctor returns and steps to the side of my bed.

"You remember," he starts gently, "When you told Haymitch that you wanted to see Katniss?"

I nod, despite knowing that's what I said my heart _does _clutch a little.

"She's offered to come in and see you tonight, would that be alright?"

"Yes," I manage out, watching him close, looking for the deceit, "Am I going to be held down?"

He nods and puts two extra straps on each arm 'for precaution'.

I don't blame him, even I don't think one would've held me back if I lost control.

I have to take this opportunity though, _I have to see what she's like._

* * *

><p>Once it's late, I'm not sure how late, the door finally does open, and I'm immediately on edge, full of fear and revulsion as she walks into the room.<p>

Katniss, the mutt, the reason why I'm stuck down to this bed, is just as on guard as I am. I can see it in the way she walks up to me.

She doesn't get close, just enough that I can see her face and expression very clearly. And then she crosses her arms.

"Hey," her voice is soft, but cold.

"Hey," I say back, a simple introduction, not meant to be looked at too closely, I guess.

"Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me."

"Look at you, for starters," I correct her. And then I do. I look at her long dark hair, braided down her back just like I remember, I look at her storm gray eyes, building with anticipation, I look at her slim frame, unhealthy and thin. It almost sickens me to look at this creature.

_How could I have fallen for something like this? _Her sickly pale skin, her tight cheekbones, her boney fingers,_ she could be a skeleton._

"You're not very big, are you?" I find myself saying, "Or particularly pretty."

"Well, you've looked better," she snaps.

I can't help laughing at this, some part of me, the part that sees how disgusting she is, expected that response almost word for word. _Maybe she really __**is **__a mutt._

"And not even remotely nice. To say that to me after all I've been through."

"Yeah. We've all been through a lot," _which we have, that's right, but I think it's safe to say I've been through the most._

"And you're the one who was known for being nice," I try not to wince at this outwardly, _what an insult, _"Not me."

_That's for sure._

"Look," she says finally, looking almost furious now, "I don't feel so well. Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow."

_I hope she will, _I can't help hoping that she shows up everyday.

But I can't let her go just like this, I have to do something to slow her, to stop her, to make her say more._ I need to see more of her._

"Katniss."

She stops but she doesn't turn back immediately, she's just waiting.

"I remember about the bread."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

If you enjoyed the adventures of Little Peeta, tell me about it. Write a REVIEW! I'm totally loving all of them, simple or not. Take care! See you next time!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	22. Chapter 6 OPTP: Heart

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option P<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

What, what, are you kidding me? Another Option? Yes.

Yes, another Option.

This is to give you an idea of what I'm doing in the shadows. And why is it Option P, you ask, P? Maybe there's THAT many options.

No, I'm not kidding.

Option P will NOT continue showing up here regularly. No, it won't.

It will, instead, be on my website. The website needs some purpose, so it's getting one. One REALLY big one.

Fer those of you that have enjoyed my story, there's something special being made.

I'm really not kidding.

This first part of P will be posted here. And after that, that's IT. Just this chapter.

After that, you can either watch my twitter fer the update, or look fer the next chapters on my website.

So welcome to Option P. ^^

Enjoy! And have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I don't mind if my heart don't beat,

And the sun don't shine.

They'll get theirs,

You'll get yours, and I'll get mine.

It used to be that everything was easy,

Now it's lost and nobody believes me.

Am I losing heart?

Have I frozen it?

Am I pushing too hard?

Have I started to forget?

I'm alright.

Am I made of steel?

Am I locked up tight?

I'm human, but I'm wide awake,

And afraid to fight.

It used to take nothing to amaze me,

But now I'm older,

And it doesn't even phase me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 - Heart<strong>

* * *

><p>They're going to try something new to me today. I know because the doctor tells me.<p>

It's good that they're allowing me the knowledge of change, it's comforting because it's different than what Snow did.

It's even more comforting because I think I **need **to know, I probably shouldn't be subjected to surprise when I get so upset so easily.

This time, today, they play a recording for me. The feeling of panic at the sight of her is overwhelming as the video plays out.

_Katniss sits against me and asks: "Did I ever tell you about how I got Prim's goat?"_

I watch me on the screen as I shake my head and she begins to explain,_ "It was a Friday evening, the day just before Prim turned ten, late in May..."_

The story plays out until this sickly version of me mentions how they both are like Katniss, her mother and Prim. _How she's nurtured me, I'm sure, I think that's what I meant._

But the screen blacks out and they turn on the lights of the room.

The doctor comes up and I feel a calm swell over my mind, calm from the story, from Katniss. It's like I'm comforted by seeing her and me like this; close together, in the cave.

I remember feeling like that then, when I was with her.

I can't take my eyes from the screen, can't take my mind from that moment, staring up at the black screen as I play back the memory in my head.

I can smell the cave, feel the discomfort of it, the sting of my leg, when I had it. I can even remember the tastes in my mouth and the feel of her lips; the lamb stew in the cave.

Whether she was playing it up, or was a mutt, that doesn't stop how I felt and how she made me feel.

I glance up finally when I feel a particular presence come close to me.

"Peeta?"

The doctor by my side looks concerned and I try to push away the overwhelming tidal wave of emotions that's taking over.

I can only grasp on to tiny details of what Katniss's story means.

_District Twelve was bombed, _I remember that, and Katniss's old house can't possibly be in the shape it was then. And even when she moved out of it and into the Victor's Village, I don't remember seeing that goat at all.

The doctor smiles as I blink up at him.

"How are you feeling, Peeta?" He asks softly, as if not to startle me.

"So, was the goat real?"

His eyebrows narrow as he stares down at me, "The goat?"

"The goat in her story," I try to explain, "Was it real, or did she make that up for the cameras? Did it die?"

"I don't know," he answers finally and I'm immediately put out.

_I'll never know if it was real, and even if it was, it's probably dead from the explosion._

* * *

><p>The next time they play a video for me, it's not a memory I know.<p>

It's Katniss, yes, clearly Katniss. And she's singing to these trees of Mockingjays out around our home in District Twelve.

I stare up at the screen this time as the song chills through me.

"_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Where the dead man called out for his love to flee._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

My mind isn't able to hold back the first image of her father, the first image I associate with the song.

* * *

><p>Katniss's father, the strong, tall man, walking into the bakery.<p>

I had gotten home from school that day and just put away my books, I'd even stopped by the back stove to make sure that the bread in one of the ovens wasn't burning.

Sometimes, they would smell like they were burning, to me, but I was always so afraid of that so I could've just been imagining it in my head.

Katniss's father came into the bakery nearly everyday. He was so much bigger than her mother and her, but not nearly as wide shouldered as my father.

They were both pretty bulky men, but for completely different reasons.

* * *

><p>"Good evening, Mister Everdeen," my dad says as he turns back to me and asks for a loaf of Three Grain from the back.<p>

He means **warm**, I always know he means 'warm' for Mister Everdeen.

I run to the back and grab the large towel to pull down the handle of the oven. It's set low to keep a few warm and I grab out the first one with my left hand, my left, which is covered in the largest oven mitts, able to fit on my head but just barely on my father's hands.

I bag the bread as my dad and Mister Everdeen talk.

"She's a beautiful girl," Katniss's father is saying, _about Prim_, I think, "Too innocent compared to Katniss."

_Katniss,_ I can't help smiling, and my stomach does turns. _Katniss and her singing._

And just as I'm thinking this, Mister Everdeen walks from the counter to look at the cakes on display.

He starts humming to his self softly at first.

My father walks into the back where I am, smiles at me, and puts up his apron.

"Give him the bread, Peeta," he tells me. He knows I will, but he says so just to be sure.

I watch him leave, up the stairs, to tell my brothers that we're closing.

Mister Everdeen has went from just humming now, to singing.

I'm immediately aware of the birds going silent on top of the bakery roof, just like my father said they would, _just like they did for Katniss._

"_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

_I don't know what a hanging tree is, _but the song makes me sad, and I can't help wondering why they need to be free.

As he ends the song, Mister Everdeen turns to me suddenly and holds out his hand for the bread.

I move closer and give it to him.

"You paint the cakes?" he asks softly, then points down at the one I remember doing this morning, "This one here, right?"

It startles me that he would know something like that and I feel my face heat up as I look from the bread, to his hand, to the cake, and then back up to his face.

I almost feel guilty._ Most adults don't talk to me unless I do something wrong._

"This one was done by you, right?"

I nod, "I only do the lilies." I honestly can't think of anything more to say to him. This moment, right here, I'm reminded of why my father doesn't hate Mister Everdeen.

I always wondered before how my dad could settle for my mom, lose Katniss's mother, and still **like **this guy. But when I'm around Mister Everdeen, I can feel it, the comfort that comes from having someone around you that's concerned for everyone.

He's a strong guy, he's a capable guy, and he still goes out of his way to be kind and courteous to others.

My dad's a great man, but I can see why Katniss's mother loves Mister Everdeen now.

He doesn't even know me, but he knows my cakes.

I watch him scratch his beard stubble and smile at the displays, "You've got a good eye for detail, Peeta. Soon, you'll be painting all of these cakes."

I want to know how he knows it's mine, so I ask.

Mister Everdeen just laughs and points out something to me that I don't think of often.

"A flower is a **plant**, Peeta," he says at first, "And I've seen your mothers try at cakes, she's not very good. I've seen your fathers, and they're sort of like flowers. Both of your brothers make them look sort of like a cartoon."

I tilt my head as he explains, but he goes silent and I'm so impatient, _I have to know._

"Well, what do **mine **look like?"

He fingers the bread in his hand, putting it in his hunting bag, looks at the soft white lily again and then says: "They look like flowers."

This is what gets me thinking about the way that I paint _my lilies_.

The way I looked them up in as many pictures as I could, how I stared at them for hours, the shadows, the lighting.

_Mister Everdeen is right,_ I think. _Mine do look like flowers._

The next time I paint one like I did that day, which isn't often, I'm glad that I can now make a flower instead of a cake.

* * *

><p>I explain this memory in detail to the doctor that comes to me after the video plays.<p>

He's surprised, but satisfied, at what I'm not sure.

Finally, he puts down his pin and helps to release me from the bed, "would you like to go and work on the wedding cake some more?"

I nod, of course I do, these memories of the bakery and Katniss's father make me long to get my hands painting again.

"Today you can make the actual cake for them," he says as he cuffs my hands and the guards stand around listening but not including themselves.

"And to what theme?" I ask.

"Sea," he says, "Of course. For Annie and Finnick."

I know it's for Annie and Finnick already, but as he says their names, I'm overwhelmed with joy that the two of them can finally be happy together, no more Capitol to shop Finnick around, no more fear of the Games for Annie.

_I want to make their cake amazing._

* * *

><p>Orange Cup Corals and gentle Sea Flowers, it's hard to stop myself from expecting them to sway back and forth.<p>

Now that I've finished it, a few days after the memory of the Hanging Tree song, I watch them roll it away for the wedding. I wish I could go, but I know I can't be trusted out there. _Just in case Katniss is around._

Even now, I don't know what to think of her.

I imagine that I have some sort of power over myself at this point, but I don't want to upset Finnick and Annie on their special day if I slip.

The doctor leads me back to my room and I'm strapped back down to the bed, left to relax for the rest of the day.

It's been grueling, getting the cake done in time for the wedding, but I'm almost painting as fast as I use to, and keeping my hands from shaking has become relatively easy now.

I'm not sure how long I lay like this, thinking over the cake and the sea flowers when the doctor returns and steps to the side of my bed.

"You remember," he starts gently, "When you told Haymitch that you wanted to see Katniss?"

I nod, despite knowing that's what I said my heart _does _clutch a little.

"She's offered to come in and see you tonight, would that be alright?"

"Yes," I manage out, watching him close, looking for the deceit, "Am I going to be held down?"

He nods and puts two extra straps on each arm 'for precaution'.

I don't blame him, even I don't think one would've held me back if I lost control.

I have to take this opportunity though, _I have to see what she's like._

* * *

><p>Once it's late, I'm not sure how late, the door finally does open, and I'm immediately on edge, full of fear and revulsion as she walks into the room.<p>

Katniss, the mutt, the reason why I'm stuck down to this bed, is just as on guard as I am. I can see it in the way she walks up to me.

She doesn't get close, just enough that I can see her face and expression very clearly, "Hey you," her voice is soft, almost shy.

"Hey," I say back, a simple introduction, not meant to be looked at too closely, I guess.

"It's been a while," she whispers still, holding out a hand as if she wants to touch me.

I nod, stare at her body, the way she seems to be nervous, scared of me. I think she's afraid I'll attack her again.

"Was there anything you wanted to ask me?" She offers, taking the seat near the bed finally.

"Not particularly yet," I respond, curling my left hand up, "I just wanted to get a good look at you for starters." And I do, I look her over, look at the redness of her eyes and cheeks, like she's been crying, I look at the sickly pale color of the rest of her skin, the long dark hair braided down her back, her trademark from the games.

Her gray eyes stare nervously at me, wondering my self, her thin body both so weak and, as I know from before, quite capable. Strong.

"You're not as big as I expected," I say finally, "Or really that pretty either."

She looks offended, but bows her head, "I guess not, I look quite harmless, don't I?"

"Not as harmless," I respond, "Not if I remember things correctly. You're not nearly as harmless as some wish you were. Me included."

"I'm sorry," she says, her shoulders dropping in defeat, "I'm sorry about what they did to you, I never meant for you to be hurt."

I watch her, watch the tears trickle down her cheeks.

"There has to be some part of you that believes what's happened between us was real," she sobs out, "Some part of you that doesn't think I'm some stupid mutt made by the Capitol."

"I don't know what to think anymore," I say, interrupting her as she's crumbling to pieces, "I'm confused about everything that happened between you and me, and I just, I don't know, I don't know how I feel about you. I don't know _what _you are."

"Well," Katniss perks up, collecting herself, "I don't much know what I am either, I know they want me to be the Mockingjay. But there's more than that to me."

"Mockingjay?" I ask, I can't help wanting to hear more.

"They want me to do some propaganda recordings and interviews, that's how I got shot–"

"Shot?"

She stands up and lifts her shirt from her stomach to show me the irritated stitches in her side. The skin is angry and red, the entire area surrounding it is bruised and violated. In all, it looks nasty, _mean._

"They had to remove my spleen," she says, covering it back up and sitting down again, "I guess it's what I get for not listening."

"Usual Katniss," I say, laughing with her.

She stops and looks at me, smiling warmly, "So, you painted the cake for Finnick and Annie."

It's not a question, but I confirm it anyways, "I wanted to do something special for them. I hope the wedding was everything they wanted it to be."

"It was, and the cake was beautiful, I saw it Peeta," she smiles wider, "You did a great job on it. You always paint such beautiful things."

It's a comfort that I can settle into, a comfort like this, that worries me. To fall back into this so easily. _How can she __**not **__be a mutt?_

I think my expression changed because she stops smiling.

"Are you with me?" She asks, nervous and maybe afraid of what I might say.

"I'm trying, Katniss, I'm really trying."

I feel her hand rest on my cheek suddenly and the shock of it stops my breath.

"Stay with me," she whispers, "_Stay with me, Peeta_."

This is the first action of her that forces out a memory I've forgotten, the memory of her telling me that _I could freeze the moment, that I could be with her like that forever. _And then the sunset.

"Katniss," I manage out, fighting against the anger and fear.

"I need you," she whispers in my ear, "I need you with me in this, Peeta. I'll do everything I can to help bring you back from what they've done."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you liked it! Feel free to review and tell me what you think of the concept.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	23. Chapter 6 OPTB: Torn Apart

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option B<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Welcome back to Option B, I believe we left off on about one of the biggest cliffhangers I've ever done.

This was about the most PAINFUL chapter to write, and the next one, Option B Chapter 7, will be just as bad. But follow this CLOSE. Eat up every werd and everything I mention. You might just see where this is going.

Enjoy and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Spend all your time waiting,

For that second chance,

For a break that would make it okay.

There's always some reason,

To feel not good enough,

And it's hard at the end of the day.

I need some distraction,

Oh beautiful release.

Memories seep from my veins,

Let me be empty.

Oh and weightless and maybe,

I'll find some peace tonight.

In the arms of the angel,

Fly away from here,

From this dark cold hotel room,

And the endlessness that you fear.

You are pulled from the wreckage,

Of your silent reverie.

You're in the arms of the angel.

May you find some comfort here.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 - Torn Apart<strong>

* * *

><p><em>I'm drowning.<em>

_I'm not in the sea, I'm not in anything._

_I'm just drowning._

_And I can't see a light anymore._

_The vast surrounding is wide and vacant, empty, dark._

_I don't think I'm anywhere familiar, and I don't think I can be found here. I think I'm lost._

* * *

><p>The shrill sounds around me of violence and fear fill my ears until they're overwhelmed with panic.<p>

I've been injured, I'm sure of that, but I can't quite put a position to it. Maybe it's my legs, maybe it's my back. I can't tell if I'm even whole anymore.

_I could be dead._

And the light coming from above, blinding me like an uncontrolled fire. _The beeps too, I hear beeps way in the distance._

Immediately, I try to get up.

"Stay down, Katniss," someone says to me, a girl, "Stay put and don't move. You're badly injured."

Badly injured isn't nearly close to how concerned and worried I am. So I get up anyways, or I want to get up, but something pulling from inside of my shoulder stops me from being able to get up completely. Or even think about getting up.

It stops me from thinking about anything at all. This is when the real pain hits, the pain deep in my shoulder from something stuck through it. The scream bursts from my lips and I sit up even more, trying to get whatever it is out.

I look down and see the metal rod protruding from my right shoulder, the collar bone on this side is surely broken. And it's almost unimaginable, the pain that I feel.

My eyes flash and blotch with white circles and black dots. I'm in such shock that my body starts to shake.

"Katniss!" I hear someone scream suddenly, startling me out of my slowly dripping insanity and then hands are at my shoulder, trying to stop the blood that's over my shirt and down my front half.

I'm dizzy, barely able to see a thing anymore as I look around furiously, "Peeta, where's Peeta?" I ask the other nurses, but no one is answering.

"Where is he?" I scream, grabbing the woman next to me, so that she'll give me an answer.

Her eyes widen and she breathes into my face, "We don't know."

I look around, trying not to tug at the rod anymore, and see Prim running for me, running over the mounds of rubble and... bodies.

So many bodies litter the ground underneath but it doesn't stop my sister from bolting to my side, she immediately takes the bandages from the nurse I'm strangling.

"I've got her," Prim says, "You go help the others."

My sister, my young, innocent sister, Prim, is the unfortunate person to get the rod out of my shoulder. I'm screaming, cursing as she finally gets it out and grabs around me to stop blood pouring out of my back.

"What happened?" I ask finally as the feeling comes back in my mouth. I'm looking around now, anywhere, everywhere, looking for him, looking for a blond head, looking for those beautiful blue eyes, but I don't see them anywhere.

Prim tends to the hole in my shoulder, cleaning it out, putting a thick padding of gauze and cloth over it to soak up blood and wrapping it up, "You're lucky this isn't bad. Nothing vital–"

"Where's Peeta?" I look down at the bottom half of my body still under the rubble and then I feel something else.

Something that was numb before.

Something I was able to ignore, until now, and my hand drops to my stomach.

The loss that overcomes me now drowns out everything else, Prim, Peeta, Haymitch, it just drowns out my everything and tears are falling, falling all over the rocks and rubble around my body as I cry. As my entire form shudders painfully.

"I've lost him."

_I've lost him, I've lost him for sure. I can feel it._

Prim's trying to console me, rubbing my unwounded shoulder, trying to reassure me, "It's alright, Katniss, they're still looking for him. We haven't found a body yet."

_Not Peeta_, I say inside of me, _of course I'm worried about Peeta, I was worried about him before I was worried about myself. But I'm not talking about him at all._

I'm a moment from explaining it to her when something startles me.

There's a collective gasp from off to my left, just a short jogs distance, and then I hear a strangled sob. I look over, worried, and see the group together with their backs to me.

Haymitch, who I can just make out in the group, is staring down as well. He's staring at something, someone that they've found.

I shove the rubble from my body, struggling to get my feet free, ignoring the blood that's down the front of my shirt, down the legs of my pants and probably all around my waist, as Prim finishes up my shoulder, just in time for me to run to them.

The ground is loose where rocks are, hard to walk over and I stumble around the bodies, trying to respect them as I make my way through the mess.

I reach the group just as they turn to see what's coming.

Haymitch reaches out, scratches on his face, blood dried against his right ear, and tries to stop me from getting through. He tries to hide my face, to cover it with his hands, to stop me from screaming,_ but he can't stop this._

"Let me go," I shout, moving my mouth out of his grasp, shoving him away and then I see what, who, they are all looking at.

The sobs from the group make sense because they know what's been lost for me. Even Haymitch makes sense, upset, worried, trying to stop me from seeing this.

But what doesn't make sense... what doesn't make sense at all... is why I'm still alive.

My eyes run over the rubble, the gore, and I faint.

* * *

><p>The image won't leave my mind no matter what I do to try and shake it away, the image of his body, of what's happened to it, won't leave my mind.<p>

I knew that body, I was pressed against it in every way possible. I'd memorized it. I'd loved and adored it, stared at it for hours every night. _That body, I knew better than my own._

How his broad shoulders, long arms, and large hands would circle around my body and trap me close to him, how he'd stare at me while I wondered innocently against him. That body was always there when I woke up from nightmares like this one.

It's a sign of fear and loss of comfort that I no longer have... even that, to turn to in the night._ Snow has taken Peeta from me, yet again. And he won't have to try a third time._

I can just barely remember how it felt like in his arms. How he protected me, his body protected me, but this... _I can't handle this._

I can't even think of what's happening to me.

_Where has he gone?_

_Why has he left me? Has he left me? If not with me in body, than would he follow me forever now? Unable to communicate?_

_How have I lost Peeta so permanently?_

* * *

><p>When I wake up from the drowse of sleep and morphling, sweet, numbing morphling, the nurse over me is examining my body, looking over the wound of my shoulder, the needle tugging tight against my wrist, then she looks at a clipboard of papers with a deep frown.<p>

I reach my hand up and touch the side of her shirt.

She's immediately leaning in and I ask the only thing I can.

"Bay... bee," I whisper out the words, my dry throat hoarse and pulling back.

She shakes her head, "I'm sorry Mrs. Everdeen, but you've lost your child."

I nod, it's what I expected, what I already knew.

The nurse does, however, give me another piece of news that doesn't matter now, but is, I guess, _nice to know._

"You've lost your child, but you haven't lost the ability to bare more," she says softly, "Everything inside of you is perfectly fine and healthy, Katniss."

_Everything inside is healthy. But my heart is broken._

She scribbles something on the paper and then looks into my eyes, _checking my reaction to her, _I think.

"Haymitch Abernathy is in waiting, would you like to see him, Katniss?"

"I know my name," I retort back but then look towards the door, "Of course I want to see him. Is he alright?"

"Haymitch is fine," she says, smiling sadly, "He's just got a few bumps and scratches. Your sister, Prim, is taking care of other patients, and your mother is with Peeta."

_My mother... with Peeta?_

I try to nod again but this time my shoulder protests the movement.

"More morphling?" The nurse asks.

"Just a bit," I say, I want to be aware enough when Haymitch comes in, "What's your name?"

The nurse, as I've been referring to her, smiles and shifts my head on the pillow for me, "I'm Mara."

She leaves the room and I close my eyes against the pain, turning my head away, but it only takes a moment before Haymitch is at my side.

I know it's him because, when he takes my hand, they're smaller than Peeta's. They're also colder than his. Haymitch is silent then, folding his fingers in between mine and just bowing his head. He can't say anything else, or I think even **he **might fall apart.

It's hard to see him like this. Even the gesture of taking my hand is unexpected from him. Him and I have never been close. Though we care for each other, close is something we don't do.

_But I need this. I need this figure, this man, this almost father, to help guide me. I need Haymitch. _And I'm glad he knows that.

As close to Peeta as he was, Haymitch and I communicate on a more calculative level.

He can probably see me dying, right now. He can probably see everything that's going on in here.

I feel his hands squeeze mine tightly, something that Peeta will never do again. I want to squeeze back, but this arm is the same one that has a hole in it's shoulder and despite how much I want him to know I'm thankful, I can only talk.

And there's only one thing I want to say.

"Where is he?"

Haymitch shakes his head, because he can't say a word, he can't even tell me what's become of Peeta's body, because he's speechless.

"Where is he, Haymitch?" I ask again, mouth dry and jaw shaking because my eyes are filling with tears and he just squeezes my hand tighter in his grasp and hides his face from me.

_Peeta._

I've been afraid of losing him so many times before that I began to be comfortable with the idea that he'd be with me forever. That he would live longer than me, he would never die, or I'd die before him. That I'd sacrifice my life for him.

I struggled to keep him alive in the first arena, and was willing to risk my life to save him in the second, I wanted to protect him. I even got him back from Snow finally, and now... _Now I've really lost him._

Had I ever known that losing him would come so unexpectedly and so permanently.

Haymitch's voice comes then and startles me because I wasn't expecting him to say a thing. I was just expecting him to stay silent.

"Don't write him off so easily, sweetheart."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Do review. They're loved.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	24. Chapter 6 OPTC: Trust With Her

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Started up werk and SHEESH this has been fun.

I'm learning tuning, and that stuff is GREAT. Also, Glee is in SEVEN DAYS. And Dexter is soon. I'm so excited.

I'll be moving into my new temp home this weekend. Last weekend was just too busy and messy to get things done.

But I'm so glad I have werk, now I get to obsess over this fic easier and listen to it while I werk and write it on my breaks and during lunch. SO MUCH FUN.

I'm so happy. I'ma go watch The Glee Project now, LOVE YOU ALL!

Enjoy, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi, and no, I'm not on something. Promise. XP

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Gosh it's been a while since I've review responded to the anonymous ppl..._

Sw777: "Yer responses were sent to you the right way. Sorry fer the past chapters confusion with reviews. _"

JennaGill: "Yeah, I'm kinda evil with cliffhangers. I liked ending it there and I normally end a lot of the chapters once they hit near, or on, or just a bit past 6 pages on WerdPerfect10. What is uh... Wildfire Country? ^^"

em: "I always thought Katniss was just too OOC. And that's REALLY odd to say about the BOOK. I felt odd feeling that way, but I guess I'm glad I'm not the only one. XP"

kiki691: "Aww, thank you so much. /blush I'm glad you like it and I'm glad you like me as a writer. ^^ My website is VERY simple. It's www . KaKaVegeGurl . Com. Yeah, really simple."

No name: "I'm so glad you reviewed! I love new reviewers just as much as the every chapter ones. And I'm glad you like the Options, I try to keep them varied. I totally agree with you fer P, well, obviously. But I totally wish that was how it panned out in the book. And it was just dumb that it didn't. Rly. I'll try to keep living up to yer expectations! Thanks fer telling me how you feel! /love."

Emilie12: "Breathe, breathe. I don't want to say too much, but suffice it to say that I would completely end my favorite option. I love B. But things are going to be VERY sore. It made me completely blue writing that chapter. ^^;"

_I think that's all, there may be more. I'll do a full sweep soon._

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Everybody's laughing in my mind.

Rumors spreading 'bout this other guy.

Do you do what you did when you

Did with me

Does he love you the way I can?

Did you forget all the plans,

That you made with me?

'cause baby I didn't.

That should be me,

Holdin' your hand.

That should be me,

Makin' you laugh.

That should be me.

I need to know, should I fight for love or disarm?

It's getting harder to shield,

This pain in my heart.

That should be me,

Talking for hours.

That should be me, that should be me,

That should be me.

Never should've let you go,

I never should've let you go,

That should be me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 - Trust With Her<strong>

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><p>When I first enter the room, I expect to see just Katniss, laying in the bed looking weak and frail. But at the same time, I don't think I should've been so surprised to see Gale Hawthorne standing at her bedside as well.<p>

It only stops me for a moment, but the expectancy takes over and I have to understand that _of course he'd be here with her, even if he got her here in the first place._

He's completely motionless, standing over her with his hands at his sides as he stares down at her. _He doesn't know I'm here yet._

I move forward, shuffling my feet on the floor so that he can't miss it and he turns back to look at me. I immediately can't help thinking that _this is his fault, again. If she had been with me, or even if I'd been there with her, she would've been safe._

Gale steps out of my view and I see her laying there looking sickly and pale in the white hospital bed, just like I'd expected to when I first entered the room, _I can almost forget that he's here._

"She hasn't woken up yet," he says as I move forward, _of course he has to talk, _"She might, soon. She might wake up."

I shove past him and kneel at Katniss's side, taking her small, frail hand up in mine, enclosing the tiny thing in my large palms.

Gale swallows loudly from behind me, almost as if to remind me that he's still here, but I couldn't forget, _even if I wanted to._

"Peeta, I'm sorry about what happened before–"

"Shut up," I whisper out loud enough for him, "This isn't about **you**, so shut up and stop trying to apologize to me so that **you **can feel better." I turn to look at him, "I left her with you, Gale. I trusted you to take care of her and you couldn't even do **that**."

Gale's eyes widen and he backs up a foot, "It wasn't **my **fault."

"Yeah, well the games weren't **my **fault, either," I argue back, "But I did everything within my power to keep her alive, to make sure she was safe. I did as much as was humanly possible with the situation. I know she can take care of herself, but she can be reckless, you of all people should know that about her. Sometimes you have to save her from herself."

He knows now what I mean and he immediately flares up, "I didn't have that opportunity–"

"Be quiet," I say as steadily and unmoving as possible, "Go get a bottle of water or something, would you?"

He looks like he's going to argue, like he's going to start making up excuses again, but he lets out a heavy breath and leaves the room.

I had to keep every inch of my self away from him during that argument. Sounding bitter and cold isn't my usual, and I can be a good guy, but her life was at risk this time. And that's something I don't want to lose. So I turn back to Katniss, rub my hands over the surface of hers and entwine our fingers, kissing each of the joints, her knuckles, her wrist.

_She could've been lost to me forever. _And a world without this woman in it isn't a world I want to be a part of.

_I could've lost her today, and all she would've known about me was that I was a bitter, jealous boy, that's been envious of her since the reaping. She would've never known more. She would've never known how much I truly love her. How I'd die for her, how I almost did, more than once. She wouldn't have known that she was everything to me._

I stand up as the pain of realizing what I've almost lost completely consumes me. I lean over and press my lips to hers, rest my hand on her cheek for just a moment and stand back up straight.

"_Peeta_."

My heart plummets and I stare down at her, my own eyes wide as she turns her head to the side in her sleep, in her unconsciousness.

"She does that."

I turn, startled, as Haymitch walks in and leans against the frame of the door, "I think, even sometimes, she's aware that she does it."

"How did she get shot?"

Haymitch smiles wryly and stares past me at Katniss, "It wasn't completely Gale's fault, Peeta. Katniss didn't listen to me and got herself exposed too much."

"Is she going to be alright?"

He nods, "Of course she is, they had to do some surgery, had to remove her spleen. She'll have a nasty scar from it. But she's fine. I just wanted to bring you here to show you, you could easily lose every moment with her in an instant. It's nice to see that you still love her, though."

I scoff, turn my head from him and back to Katniss. Staring at her body, I reach forward to her gown and lift it to see the wound. It's nasty, red and irritated by the stitches and I have to lift her arm away to see it better.

Haymitch walks close but not enough to see my face.

I lean forward more, run my fingers across one of the stitches and then press my lips to her flesh to kiss the wound away.

There's a throat cleared from the door and I turn back to see Gale, bottle of water in hand, glaring at me.

"I don't want this to happen again," I warn him, "I'm trusting her with you, you know."

He glares more and stares into my eyes, holding out the bottle of water to me, "You think I _like _seeing her like this?"

"Do you think _I _do?" I ask and snatch it from him, "This isn't for **me**," I motion to the drink, "It's for **her**. Everything I do is for her. Everything I say or ask for is for her. And you almost got her killed. Don't make me regret doing this for you, Gale. Don't you hurt her."

"Peeta?"

I'm not surprised by her saying my name this time, because it's normal, and Haymitch has assured me that she does it often, but when I see Gale's eyes widen, I freeze like the deer in the headlights that I am.

Her frail, weak hand reaches out to me and I feel it just barely grab onto the bottom of my shirt.

I turn back, glare down at her and make Gale's cocky sneer face, "You always want the spotlight, don't you, Mockingjay?"

She's disoriented, but not stupid, so she lets my wrist go and glares back through her sleepy haze.

Haymitch sighs from beside me and Gale laughs, but I look back to him and give him a warning glare before clearing myself of the room.

Something inside tugs, tries to remind me that:_ I can't keep doing this to her, _but I ignore it.

* * *

><p>When I've gotten out of my mind enough, away from Katniss, and away from Gale especially, I finally begin to relax, settle back into a sort of calm.<p>

I go into the kitchen, bake, and then join the collection of trainees outside to prepare for the group that'll be sent into the Capitol.

_I have to keep my mind on this or I'll go crazy._

_If I can keep my mind on it long enough, I can get back to being myself._

Johanna Mason, standing next to me, turns and looks me over, "Are you gonna be sick?"

"I'm fine," I say back, taking a breath and keeping my eyes from her.

"I guess you went and saw Katniss," Johanna says then, raising a brow, "She looks pretty bad too. But I bet Gale will help her out with that."

She's goading me, but I let it slide.

"Guess he will."

Johanna's eyes widen and she stares at me, "You really don't have a backbone what-so-ever do you?"

I shrug but she continues on.

"No, _really_," she says, "You're just gonna let him steal your girl? Because he doesn't have a problem with that. You're just making it easier for him."

"Maybe."

"Well, that's not really helping you, is it?" Johanna watches me, smirking.

"What's your point?"

"My point is..." She pauses and grins wider, "You don't _really _love her. Not really. Not if you're not willing to fight for her. She's worth that, you know.'

Goading me even more.

I turn now and glare at her, "This is different. I've fought enough for Katniss. I just... well I guess she doesn't want to fight for **me**, does she?"

Johanna is the one shrugging now, "She's fighting for you and she doesn't even know who you are, in case you hadn't noticed. What the Capitol did to her, wiping out her memory, wasn't in her power. She didn't ask for it."

I stop everything I'm thinking immediately when she says this and then I'm turning to look at her as fear boils inside of me, "You've... got a point."

"I know," she says pridefully, "But that doesn't matter, because, last time I checked, Gale was proposing to her and she was saying 'yes'."

"No," I breathe out but Johanna frowns when I do; surprised that I'm not raving mad, and instead–

"Yes," she glares at me now, looking serious, "Don't you feel like an idiot?"

And I do.

_I feel like the biggest fool._

* * *

><p>"Why am I such an idiot?" I ask, not wanting an answer, as I kick the side of one of the boxes in front of me.<p>

Haymitch, sitting on the stool by me, shrugs and watches my angry actions, "You just are."

"Shut up," I say, turning back to him and glaring, I hate glaring, "I mean... Don't shut up. I'm sorry, Haymitch. I'm sorry for being so stupid."

He smiles, a sort of sad smile, like he feels sorry for me, and then slides the tool across the table, "It doesn't matter now. You have to do what you have to, Peeta, and deal with the mistakes."

"I know," I grab it up and turn to the cake sitting on the counter.

_I can't believe I have to paint this thing for them._

"I can't believe she said 'yes'."

Haymitch laughs and pats me on the back, "That's what you get for being an idiot."

_He's right, this is what I get, this is what I deserve. I should've listened. But I was so stupid and stuck in the better-man-than-Gale idea that... I blinded my sometimes ignorant self from the obvious things, things sitting right in front of me._

"What do I do now?"

Haymitch settles down as I begin to coat the cake in a soft green icing, "I don't know what you do now, that's your choice, not mine."

"You were fine telling me what to do when I could've fixed it easily, but suddenly now that I've messed it up beyond repair, you won't give me advice?"

"You know why."

_I do, unfortunately, and it scares me so much that Haymitch can just as easily latch onto that knowledge of me like he so often does the familiarity of hard liquor that causes others to cough or be odd for at least a moment. He's the only person in my life that can see where I'm always coming from and where my brain waves are headed. He knows what to expect. Like a father should._

_What doesn't make sense, is how completely different we are, and yet how well we know what to expect from each other._

_And he knows that if he helps me, it'll just be a lesson not learned. It's this point right here, this point is the most important for me to make the choice alone. He doesn't want me to really screw it up, but at the same time, I've gotten myself into this situation. It's my job to get myself out of it. Not his._

_I can't just bust in and tell Gale that I want Katniss now, and I can't sit back and let him win her over when she's fought so hard already for me. But I have to handle this carefully._

"When are they getting..." I take a breath and look away from Haymitch, "When are they getting married, Haymitch?"

He's silent at first, but he does answer: "In two days."

I finish icing the cake the rest of the way in silence and begin making the soft leaves, gentle trees climbing up the sides, blades of grass and small brown blurs that look like forest creatures.

_It's a cake fit for her._

* * *

><p>The next day is spent working out, jogging, doing anything I can to keep my mind busy and build up my body for the trials. I don't see head or toe of Katniss, and that's probably the best for me at this point. I need time to think over what I'm going to do, and having her around would just be a distraction.<p>

Haymitch doesn't usher me into it anymore than what he has in the past, and instead, just gives me a look every now and then to ask me if I've done anything yet. Johanna doesn't mention anything either. They both already know they've won the fight against my stubborn skull.

It's not like me to be stubborn, but it is like me to be the 'good guy', I guess. And we're best known for royally screwing things up.

Most of us don't get a chance to redeem it with the love of our lives. I have to make this count.

* * *

><p>I dress for the celebration, casual, but not too casual, soft blue and black. And I've just finished baking up the last of the bread needed for tomorrow when we're required to meet up and be seated for this monstrosity of a wedding.<p>

Haymitch, who's been by my side since I woke up this morning, straightens the striped tie around my neck and then looks me over, "Something seems... off."

"My mood?" I guess, offer, but when I look down at my arms I see that my sleeves are down. I have to struggle not to completely lose it, thinking of Portia, as I roll them up. It's one of the many things I can't handle at this moment.

I settle them above my elbows and Haymitch nods, "That's more like it."

We join the group seating themselves, being shushed as the camera crew sets up, and I take a seat in one of the chairs furthest in the back, the last thing Gale or Katniss need to see is my face.

_It's a complete joke that I've even come to this thing, honestly. A complete joke._

I don't even pay attention to what's happening when Katniss comes in because seeing her in her dress breaks whatever control I have. Her dress isn't over extravagant, simple, form-fitting at her waist but loose below. It's a gentle green that matches perfectly to the cake that I made.

Her eyes meet mine for a moment while she walks, while she holds Haymitch's arm, while she joins Gale at the end and then she looks away.

_That should be me._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

One of my favorite chapters to write. Really enjoyed it. Review? ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	25. Chapter 6 OPTD: Are You The Enemy?

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hope there's no errors. And Sorry fer the delay.

Things have been quite hectic at werk and at home lately. I'll be moving out soon and I've got to get stuff done but I wanted to get this out in the verse today!

So Glee starts again in three days. Dexter Season 6 soon too. So excited. Oh, and my Hunter on Wow is now lvl 83. ^^

Fer anyone that DOESN'T know, the website has been in surgery. And there is NOW a section fer Option P. Only chapter 1 (6, technically) is up right now but the next one will be available when Option A Chapter 7 get posted. So remember, if you like P, go there and read it. AND, if you want to give me a sort of review, or your opinion on it, feel free to drop me a pm here. OR you can submit a review on a chapter you haven't reviewed, and just tell me that it's fer P Chapter 7. You have multiple options. If you have any other concerns, feel free to ask. I'll answer.

Thank you all so much fer reading and being constant in the reviews, I love them ALL, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I went out looking for the answers and never left my town.

I'm no good at understanding, but I'm good at standing ground.

I know the darkness falls on you,

But it's just a point of view.

When you're outside looking in,

You belong to someone.

And when you feel like giving in,

And the coming of the end,

Like your heart could break in two,

Someone loves you.

While you were looking for a landslide,

I was looking out for you.

I was looking out for you,

Someone's looking out for you.

I close my eyes, I think of you,

I take a step, I think of you,

I catch my breath, I think of you,

I cannot rest, I think of you .

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 - Are You The Enemy?<strong>

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><p>My first thought is that we're trespassing on their property. We didn't exactly see barriers or closed gates, but we technically belong in District Twelve. If that's the case, and we're interlopers, then they have any authority over what they do with us that they want.<p>

The guy closest to me has an old, worn bandana over his mouth that's not only dirty, but blood-stained, and a rough scar across one eye, _but he can't be that much older than me._

"Where are you from?" He asks and I see the bandana move with his jaw.

"District Twelve," Haymitch answers when no one else does.

"Did you cause that explosion?"

"No."

The guy nods and starts to walk around the front of us, looking over Katniss and Prim, "You'll come with us, I think. I want this to be easy, quiet, and I don't want any argument from the men," he looks at me.

"Why would we do that?" I ask, watching his expression as his eyes linger on two of the most important women to me. And then they, the bandits, all turn in my direction.

"We're the ones with the guns," he says, lifting his just slightly, to catch my attention. It's worn as well, just like he is, dusted and useful.

"I see a gun, but that doesn't mean it's loaded. I see a lot of talking and not much action," I respond and he sneers.

"You got a mouth on you," he says, moving close and putting the gun's end to my temple, "Maybe I don't use them because I don't want to waste them? Not if I can keep them, and not be so loud. I can fill you with bullets, though, _boy_. And then we can see if you'll have much of a mouth then."

This is the second time that he mentions being quiet, which I should intend to do, if I have to. _But I don't, yet._

I reach forward and snatch the gun from his hands the second I see how loose of a hold he's got. The others around are about to take aim again when I put the tip he's had pressed to my head up against his.

"I don't think you will."

Haymitch's eyes widen as his hands go up and the group steadies on me.

"You won't do a thing," the bandit says.

I turn the gun slightly from his head and release one bullet that nicks the greasy curls in his dark hair, "I will, unless you treat us better."

I can hide that my legs should be shaking and my heart is pounding so hard against my chest that it might leave bruises, but his fear shows, eyes wide, grabbing up to check his ear.

The others around, to their unfortunance, show how valuable this man is to them by screaming in fear or crying out for him.

I catch the name, _Nor_, I think. An odd name, one I've definitely never heard before. But most of them haven't been particularly common. Coin, Thresh, Rue, Portia. Nor could be just as common, if not more, for all I know.

He doesn't look completely shaken though when he realizes I've only shown off a bit, instead of causing actual harm, but I've got him thinking.

Katniss puts a hand on my shoulder, "It's getting dark."

"I know."

Nor, putting his hand to the end of the gun, stares me dead in the eyes and says: "We won't do no harm, but we could use some help. We can give you shelter, if you help us out."

"Help you out with what?"

He looks at the women, Prim and Katniss, then Katniss's mother, "Are any of them healers? They look like they should be."

_Healers?_

"I am," Katniss's mother says, "And my daughter," she rests a hand on Prim's shoulder.

"I hunt," Katniss adds.

"So do I," I say as I lower the gun slightly.

Nor, to his credit, puts his hands down and looks back at the two people behind him, his 'wing men'; a girl and boy with panicked expressions.

"We can give you shelter, if you can help us," he says again, "We won't do you no harm, you have my word."

"You have mine," I respond, "You won't do me harm, or I'll kill you."

Nor nods and then asks: "So you're not officials, right? You're runaways, is that right?"

"Not runaways," I try to explain, "More like potential nomads. We can take care of ourselves."

"You can help us though?" He asks, unsure now, "We could really use a healer."

"We'll help if you let us," I motion to my entire group, "all of us, women and healers included, be on our way when we decide to move again."

He nods nervously, "Alright, that sounds fair."

I give him back his gun, "And just because I don't have that to point on you doesn't make me any slower at being able to take you out."

He smiles then, slings the gun over his shoulder, and motions for the rest to relax, "That's clear, what's your names?"

"Well," I look around at them, "I'm Peeta, that's all you need to know."

Nor seems even more enthusiastic once he knows my name, talking about giving me a map and advice on direction, but I blow it off.

I don't much care for where we go, as long as it's away.

"We have a place just up ahead, hidden," Nor shares, "That's where the rest are. It's a good place, stable, and it doesn't leak when it rains. But our people aren't doing well."

We're walking for nearly three or four minutes when Katniss halts. She grabs my arm and stops me from walking as well, stops the entire group from moving forward.

"Peeta," she says, eyes wondering, "Can I talk to you alone?"

I still and lean down to her, looking into worried eyes, "Katniss?"

She leads me away from the group and turns her back to them, "I think we need to leave."

"Leave?" I ask, confused by her change in mood.

"I don't think these people are safe," she says, raising her eyebrows at me, "Look up at them, but look past them, don't make it obvious. Just act like your kissing my head or something."

Katniss, so very observing, as usual, I couldn't expect less. So I try to keep my face and my body as calm as possible and listen to her advice without hesitation.

"Alright," I say, smiling and leaning forward, pressing my lips to her hairline, and I flick my gaze behind the group.

Just past them I can see a deep hole in the ground, possibly to go down in to. _Or not_. I see, just out in the forest, the white objects in the trees. Shirt corners, ruffles in pants, and then ends of what could be guns.

_Is it possible that Peacekeepers could be __**all **__of the way out here?_

"Katniss!" I shout, moving her and I to the ground and I hear panicked gasps from the group, "Prim!" I turn back just as Prim falls, hand grasping her neck tight. Katniss's mother and two of the other girls drop as well and then Haymitch, Nor, and the other male bandits.

"Prim!" Katniss shouts, struggling to get up from under me.

"Haymitch!" And, despite wanting to just run out blindly, I shove Katniss back near a tree, "Stay here!" Then I dart out to get a look at the group.

It doesn't take much more than a moment to realize that most of them are dead, and the ones that aren't are dying.

Haymitch has only just closed his eyes when he sees me and little Prim was gone long before I reached them. The darts in their necks tell me that they were specifically targeted first. The dart in Nor's shoulder is probably a second shot just after.

And he takes his last breath to say: "Run."

I do. I grab Prim's pack full of medical supplies, Katniss's mother's bag of herbs, and Haymitch's; with the food supplies, before I run back to Katniss.

"Prim!" She shouts as I round the tree, grab her arm and pull her away.

"No, Katniss," I hiss to her, wrapping my arm around her waist and holding her back, covering her mouth, "They're all gone, we have to go!"

"But my sister–"

"I know," I breathe as I shove her on in front of me, putting our backs to the Peacekeepers, "I know Katniss, I'm sorry about Prim. But I don't want you joining her. We have to go, now."

She shakes her head, as if to clear it, arms up and hands open like she's not entirely sure where to go, but then she turns back to me and takes the herb bag from my steel grip, "I can carry this, at least."

* * *

><p>We're not sure how long we've been legging it, but eventually we're both winded to the point of passing out.<p>

Katniss and I stop and drop the bags from our arms because we can barely breathe.

My chest and throat burn and I fish around in my bag until I find a canteen of water, which I hand to her first.

She gulps down a few mouthfuls and hands it back.

Breathing, panting, exhausted, I turn to look behind us while I drink and try to rest my legs.

There's nothing, no sign of movement or pursuit, just the calm sway of trees and leaves from the wind. For all I know, they haven't been following for a while, or at all. But I don't even need to know that to know that we need to keep going.

"Let's walk," Katniss suggests and we start off together in a different direction than we've been running.

I can tell she's bothered, she wants a moment to mourn our losses, but she doesn't take it up and I don't, for her sake.

I try my hardest not to concentrate on any of them.

"Did they," Katniss breathes, still panting while we walk, but trying not to speak too loud, "Did they kill the others as well?"

"Yeah," I respond immediately, holding a branch out of our way, "Nor as well."

"There's people!" Katniss gasps and turns back to me.

"What?"

She stops walking and grabs my arm, "If they killed all of the people, then remember what Nor said? There were more of them, and they needed help."

"Katniss," I breathe, trying to calm her down again, "We don't know that."

"We do, and we have to help them."

"And put you in danger?"

Katniss starts to pull me back the way we came from, "We have to help them, Peeta," she says, dragging me through the trees, "My mother was going to. I have to do anything I can."

I see the danger, once again, just a moment before it happens, "Katniss!" I grab her back as one of the needles that killed Prim and her mother, and Haymitch, embeds itself into the bark of a tree at her side.

Once this happens, I duck us and pull one of the knifes from my pocket, flick it open and chuck it up towards the peacekeeper closest.

Not vitally wounded, he falls to the ground and Katniss strings the bow she brought from Thirteen. She strings it and begins to pick them off.

They're possibly low on darts because they start moving in to attack at close range.

I pull out another knife and take out the Peacekeeper coming in from behind us, grab up his own weapon, a short sword, but just as I've done this, the action is over.

Six of them, which is more than what I saw in the trees before, lay dead at our feet and Katniss collapses back against me.

"Katniss!" I grab her but she reaches up and touches my face.

"Relax," she says, smiling and panting, "I'm fine."

I look her over to make sure and she's right, no wound, no needles, "Is something wrong with the baby?"

"No," she reassures, "I'm just really tired."

I lift her up in my arms and begin to carry her, mostly to get away from the dead Peacekeepers.

I'm a little bit more comfortable knowing that these men are dead and out of the way, knowing that they won't be a risk to my wife and my child. Knowing that we've just gotten them back for taking the ones we love dearest from us.

It's longer getting back to the bodies of Prim, Katniss's mother, and Haymitch, than it was getting away. But it's worth it.

I set down Katniss so she can take care of them with me.

Even now, we don't allow ourselves to grieve. We simply take them out of the clearing and rest them in the grass of the forest.

Katniss stands back up beside me and puts her hand on her stomach, "They could be sleeping."

I wrap my arm over her shoulder and pull her close against my body to give her comfort and support, "Just like Rue?"

She nods.

Then she lifts up her pack and gives me mine, "I believe we have worried people to search for."

I take her hand and we walk back out to where the group was murdered, look around for the direction we were walking.

"He said it was 'just ahead'," Katniss repeats to herself and we begin to walk.

I follow after, still holding her hand tight, "He also said it was 'well hidden'. Should we try looking for a hidden entrance, or a basement for one of these houses?"

Katniss looks around at them but shakes her head, "None of these even look like they've been touched in ages."

I look them over, look at every door before I freeze in shock at the one just before us. It's obvious now, staring from the perspective of someone looking for clues and I move up onto the porch of an old home that looks just as worn as the rest.

"Peeta?" Katniss asks, joining me.

I reach up and knock on the window, instead of sounding like glass, it sounds hollow; _like a tree._

"Nor?" The voice asks from the other side.

"Not Nor," I respond back, "But I'm not a Peacekeeper and I'm not from the Capitol. My name is Peeta."

The voice asks another question: "Where is Nor?"

"Nor is dead," I reply, "We, my wife and our family, and Nor and his friends, were attacked by Peacekeepers. Only my wife and I came out alive."

The voice, male, clearly now, doesn't sound very trusting, "How do we know your not just Peacekeepers?"

"Because Katniss, my wife, is pregnant, and we know you need a healer."

"Katniss?" The voice asks in a breathy voice before the entrance opens, and not in a way I'm expecting.

I expect it to open like a door, but it slides away quickly, mechanical, and I'm able to see who's inside.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Who do you think it is? O.o Guess in a review? ^^ Because I wanna know what you think.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	26. Chapter 7 OPTA: Used

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

In Option D, I've had suggestions like Madge, Katniss's Father, Gale, and Cinna.

These are good guesses, are there anymore? Any that you agree with? Or do you think it's a new person? Let me know in a review fer that chapter if you haven't already.

Anyways, this is A, and with this A, comes P. Remember that it WILL NOT be posted here. **It's on my website.**

If you want to review it, either do it in a previous chapter that you haven't reviewed fer, anonymously, via twitter, facebook, or my email, or PM me here. I'd like to know what you think of it.

P is the Option where BOOK 3 goes the way it SHOULD'VE. XP

As fer other things, this chapter is late because of tight times at werk, packing my apartment up, and spending time with TristAn, all which are taxing. But it's up now and once I'm moved into the new house, things will be more regular and form once again.

And as fer GLEE last night, I was frigging glued to the screen of my computer, watching it. Love Blaine, love Kurt, even sort of like odd!Quinn, but there wasn't NEARLY enough Finn and no Kurofsky at all, sad face.

Can't wait fer the next episode.

Oh, one more thing, **ONE MORE THING.**

I want all of you, to think hard fer me, on Option D, since that Peeta is the one left with a baby still. You've got time. But I wanna know what you think the baby should be, boy or girl. ^^ Just let me know some time soon.

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I should have known you'd bid me farewell.

There's a lesson to be learned from this and I learned it very well.

Now, I know you're not the only starfish in the sea.

If I never hear your name again, it's all the same to me.

You never care for secrets I confide.

For you, I'm just an ornament, somethin' for your pride.

Always runnin', never carin', that's the life you live.

Stolen minutes of your time were all you had to give.

The story's in the past with nothin' to recall.

I've got my life to live and I don't need you at all.

The roller-coaster ride we took is nearly at an end.

I bought my ticket with my tears, that's all I'm gonna spend.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - Used<strong>

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><p>"They showed you the tape of me talking about it," she says, still not turning back to me.<p>

"No," I respond, almost confused by what she's said, "Is there a tape of you talking about it? Why didn't the Capital use it against me?"

"I made it the day you were rescued," she says, wincing, like she's in some sort of pain, "What do you remember?"

"You. In the rain. Digging in our trash bins. Burning the bread. My mother hitting me," I can barely say it loud enough, barely concentrate on the words, "Taking the bread out for the pig but then giving it to you instead.

"That's it," she confirms, "That's what happened. The next day, after school, I wanted to thank you. But I didn't know how–"

"We were outside at the end of the day," I tell her, interrupting her, _I think, _"I tried to catch you eye," I admit.

"You looked away. And then for some reason, I think you picked a dandelion."

It sounds funny when I say it, but she nods.

I remember the feeling of comfort, watching her, wanting to paint her on every canvas of the world, to show her outside in the sun, doing something so simple. But it spoke volumes to me. _No matter how hard things were, she could still appreciate the small things._

Warmth even fills me now, thinking back to it.

"I must have loved you a lot."

Her eyes glass over and she can't look at me again, "You did," and she struggles to clear her voice.

Her words make it sound like there was **never **love between us.

_Only her deceit._

"And did you love me?"

She keeps her head down, body uncomfortable and shaking softly, "Everyone says that I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me."

"That's not an answer," I say, glaring at her as the words she says avoids the question completely. "I don't know what to think when they show me some of the tapes. In that first arena, it looked like you tried to kill me with those tracker jackers."

"I was trying to kill all of you; you had me treed."

"Later, there's a lot of kissing," I continue on, ignoring her excuse, "Didn't seem very genuine on your part."

She glares at this comment.

"Did you like kissing me?"

"Sometimes." She glances towards the mirror, "You know people are watching us now?"

"I know," I confirm, _it's not like I'm dumb, _"What about Gale?"

"He's not a bad kisser either."

"And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?"

I can see her flaring up once more, getting annoyed at my questions, my concerns, "No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission."

The nerve she has, to say these things, _just like a mutt. _And I can't stop the second laugh coming out, can't stop the look of hate I give her and the words behind it, "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?"

And before I can say anything more to the nasty bitch, she walks out of the room and leaves me in the dark.

_It serves her right, what kind of person does that to someone? Especially if she knew I had feelings for her. If only I'd known then what I know now. If only I knew she didn't even care about me._

_Snow has really created a masterpiece with this one._

I don't think on it too much, she isn't worth it honestly. Once I can get my breathing down, it's easy to get to sleep.

At least I gave her a chance, allowed her to show me the nasty truth I've been convinced of already. _Haymitch can't hold that against me._

* * *

><p>"You weren't very nice to her," Delly says as the doctor sets me up with a plate of broth.<p>

"**She **wasn't nice to _me_," I argue back.

Delly, sitting eagerly in the chair by my bed, shakes her head in disappointment, "She's just upset, she's a victim to Snow as well. You shouldn't hold her anger against her, Peeta."

"And she shouldn't hold mine against me," I continue to defend myself, "What they did to me was far worse, and it's her fault. It isn't my fault that she's messed up."

"Peeta," Delly says, her eyebrows narrowing, "You're being too hard on her. She's just upset that you're..."

I stop when she doesn't continue on, and turn to look at her, "I'm _what_?" I ask, voice raspy from my sickness and I take another spoonful of the broth in.

"That you're..." She makes a motion to all of me, "Like this. That you've been manipulated. It wasn't Katniss that lied to you, not really. Her life was at stake in the arena. And in the second one, she really cared for you, Peeta. She tried to protect you. She cried when she thought you'd died. That was real."

"Was it?"

"It _was_," Delly argues, "It really was. I can tell things for her between you two before wasn't. But that was. She was worried."

"If it was real, then why is she doing this to me now?"

She takes a breath and looks up into my eyes, "Because she's hurt, and upset. Because she's scared that she's lost you. You were a good person."

"Were?"

"Well, you're certainly not now, not if you're going to treat her this way, Peeta," Delly says sternly, pressing her lips tight, "The only person that's fooling you is Snow. And do you really want him to win you over, after everything he's done? With the world he's set up? Killing children, or worse, forcing them to kill each other. How is Katniss worse than that?"

I pause before I speak this time and struggle to think about what she's said.

_She's right, clearly she's very right._

But I can't help feeling such betrayal and anger towards Katniss. I can't stop feeling used, abused, manipulated.

And it's not even more than Snow has ever done. The only difference is that it is me.

_It's me, this time, that's been used._

"You're right," I say, giving in, "I know I'm wrong... but that doesn't–"

"That doesn't stop the pain."

Delly reaches up and puts her hand over mine, "I understand. I don't know, and I can't relate. But I can imagine enough. And even that hurts. But you have to try, Peeta. You really have to try and let go of this anger that they've put in you. You're not that kind of person. You're gentle, and kind, and loving, and always so understanding."

_Am I?_

_Have I always been that way?_

_Or was I faking it too? Maybe I wasn't a good person at all. Maybe none of us are._

_Maybe we all are lying._

"We could all be fake."

"I don't think that's it," Delly says and then surprises me, "You're argument could be good if you haven't been so changed by them. We all feel a little bitter, a little hurt and scared some times. We all even feel selfish most of the time. But that doesn't make us bad. It doesn't make us fake, just because we don't show our flaws on the outside. It just makes us human."

_I didn't realize I was saying that out loud._

"The difference comes when we hurt others and how we handle that," Delly says, taking her hand away from me finally and looking down, "If you know you're hurting someone, and you keep doing it, and you're satisfied with it, that makes you a bad person. But if Katniss ever hurt you, it only hurt her just as much. She was never happy about it."

Delly can be unusually thoughtful when I don't talk. It's her common sense that allows me to relax now and concentrate on eating, concentrate on the rest of the day, and I'm able to go through it without one bitter thought about Katniss.

* * *

><p>I'm not sure how long it is before I'm allowed to eat with others, days and nights sort of just melt together for me now. At this point it's about whether I've got control, or I don't.<p>

Before, before the conversation and the new videos they've been showing me, it was always about not biting my tongue out of my mouth, and I was more often pissed and furious than not. But lately I've been calm.

So calm, in fact, that sleep is easy to come by. So calm that I barely shake when I think about her, and it's easier to slow my heart rate back to normal.

But I've been off most of today, so much that I shouldn't have went along with joining everyone in the lunch area, Katniss and Gale included. And she's laughing at their table and the only thing I can think of is leaving.

I have to do this, though. _If I can get through this, then it's just another step up the hill. _And it will be worth it if I ever want to recover.

Her eyes meet mine, widen, and then she's choking.

That's a bad start first of all, watching her struggle for air._ I should go, _really should go, but Delly beats me to it.

"Peeta!" She says loudly, looking at me, "It's so nice to see you out and about."

So nice that I've already winded Katniss, and I haven't said a thing yet. Almost... _Satisfying. No._

_No, not satisfying. It isn't satisfying to see her struggle._

_It's not._

"What's with the fancy bracelets?" Johanna asks and I look down at the chains around my wrists.

"I'm not quite trustworthy yet," I explain, "I can't even sit here without your permission."

"Sure he can sit here," Johanna says jovially, patting the empty spot by her, "We're old friends."

I take the seat as she continues.

"Peeta and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We're very familiar with each other's screams."

I honestly don't remember her screaming, but that's probably because I was too busy doing it myself. I know that Darius and Lavinia were on one side. I can only guess that Johanna was on the other side.

And I wouldn't call them cells at all, they weren't nearly that simple. _Torture rooms._

The flash of a sting in my arm, the doctor and his tool and it's near my ear, causing pain. _Causing cracking and fear._

Darius's fingers rolling on the ground.

"What? My head doctor says I'm not suppose to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy."

I don't know what she's excusing, so I look around, but I only see Gale staring at me and Katniss looking over at Finnick and Annie.

"Annie, did you know it was Peeta who decorated your wedding cake?" Delly asks, I think to sway the subject of Capitol tortures, "Back home, his family ran the bakery and he did the icing."

_I painted them. It never feels like icing when you make the art on the cakes. At least, not for me._

"–Peeta. It was beautiful."

I look at her, Annie, as she smiles shyly and stares at me, her eyes empty and calm.

"My pleasure, Annie,_" and I mean it. Finnick and Annie both deserve to be happy, after everything they've been through. _

Finnick says something, but I don't hear it as I look down at my food.

_I can't be here, this is too hard. I can barely concentrate._

"–Peeta," Finnick says something and I catch the end of it. But I'm so lost right now, struggling so hard against the... _I don't know what it is. I don't know what this feeling is._

I think I say 'you too', but being around them is making me nervous, and I'm not sure why my lips are still moving, though I've only said two words.

Maybe I said something else because the words Finnick says next bother me.

"Oh Peeta. Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart."

_Another death threat. I didn't know that Finnick was in league with Katniss._

"He did save your life, Peeta," Delly says and I feel some sense of return, some sense of wake, "More than once."

"He did," I agree, but it's another one of these moments when my mouth keeps moving, though I have nothing else to say.

Katniss, flaring up at me for some reason, her face turns red in the cheeks, "Maybe not. But Mags is dead and you're still here. That should count for something."

_What did I say?_

And I find myself saying more things, this time though, I hear them.

"Yeah, a lot of things should count for something that don't seem to, Katniss." _What am I saying? _"I've got some memories I can't make sense of, and I don't think the Capitol touched them."

_What's he saying? He's not me. I... I wouldn't say this._

"A lot of nights on the train, for instance," he adds, "Or trips out in the woods. At your old house. **My** house."

Gale's eyes widen and he looks between us both.

I smirk as her face reddens and she can't meet either of our gazes anymore, she just looks down to her plate again.

"You've moved on quick enough, though," this other side of me is still saying, "So, are you two officially a couple now? Slipping things beneath the table? Or are they still dragging out the star-crossed lover thing?"

"Still dragging," Johanna says, looking at me in amusement.

At the mention of this, the disgust, the Katniss not meeting my eyes, the Gale getting red-faced causes my anger, my hate, my control to flare up and it's suddenly more than I can handle.

I'm jumping across the table, grabbing her neck tight in my hands and ripping, crushing, punching. Blood is everywhere but I can relax because she's dead.

_No, I'm not._

_I'm not jumping._

I hold it back, just barely, by a hair.

Katniss watches me as I struggle against myself, and I hold onto the table tight, just enough to stop myself from destroying her.

_I want to. I really, really want to._

_No, I don't. I don't want to._

_I can't._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	27. Chapter 7 OPTB: In Pieces

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option B<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

_*Extra long chapter to make up fer late update. /love*_

I hope yer all ready to cry.

If I pulled yer heart strings with the last Option B Chapter, then you are going to be in serious pain when this one's done.

This has to be, by far, bar none, the most sad chapter of anything ever in any time ever so far, in my life, that I have written. Seriously. It made me cry and cry and cry fer hours. O.o It hurt THINKING of this chapter before.

So grab a pack of tissues if you haven't already.

On a lighter note, just a few things to INFORM.

I like the ideas of babies you guys had. This baby, the one now lost, was going to be a boy. Katniss's mind is right there. She just keeps thinking it's a damn boy. Lol.

_This was suppose to be a lighter note, moving on._

Still haven't moved out of my apartment, hence the laggy updating, sorry all. And now I'm doing hella overtime at werk. BUT, that helps me to WRITE MORE, just not EDIT more. I was lucky to get this one out today. Had like 2 hours of overtime today and lots of stuck in traffic during rain.

I was DEDICATED TO GETTING THIS OUT TODAY!

Other then that, I don't think I have anything else to say, that I can remember. _Lemme check my notes._

OH, one more thing. More news and rough sketch stuff of the ORIGINAL story Ima be doing soon enough, will be coming up on the site. So look forward to that in future A/Ns. The site is also still being hardcore werked on too, lots of stuff coming up soon.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter, don't cry TOO much.

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi, enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Hopefully I get to all of you! XP_

Emilie12: "It really should. "

Cant Wait: "Yeah. Option C is fun stuff. I really love them all, but C is VERY different."

Em: "Bahaha, you won't have to worry about all of this soon. Trust me. Peeta will get quite selfish soon. Reasonably selfish, I think. And... Screw Gale. Lol."

Micmic022: "Right? Psst, read the comment to the review above. ^ Right there."

LittleAsian: "Responded to via yer acc, you know that. ^_~"

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

There's someone I've been missing.

I think that they could be the better half of me.

They're in the wrong place, trying to make it right,

But I'm tired of justifying.

So I say to you:

Come home, come home.

Cause I've been waiting for you,

For so long, for so long.

And right now there's a war between the vanities,

But all I see is you and me.

The fight for you is all I've ever known.

So come home.

I get lost in the beauty of everything I see.

The world ain't as half as bad as they paint it to be.

If all the sons, if all the daughters stopped to take it in,

Well, hopefully the hate subsides and the love can begin.

It might start now.

Well, maybe I'm just dreaming out loud.

Until then, come home.

Everything I can't be,

Is everything you should be.

And that's why I need you here.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - In Pieces<strong>

* * *

><p>"Don't write him off so easily, sweetheart."<p>

I open my eyes as Haymitch stands up and gives me a napkin to wipe away my tears.

"Where is he?" I ask again. It's really _all _I can ask at this point.

"He's fighting for his life."

"But he's..." I stop, _I can't say the words, I can't even think them, _I can't pull that image from my mind of his broken body. The flesh of his back and shoulders, the torn, ripped, mangled flesh of what was left from his arms. The broken veins, the mutilated muscle exposed.

"He's alive," Haymitch says, just barely, "He's still alive, Katniss."

"I want to see him," I say, sitting up.

Haymitch grabs my shoulders to hold me down, "You need to rest."

"I need to see my husband," I growl into his face, "I **need **to see him, Haymitch."

He finally lets up and starts helping me remove the machines bands and needles from my body.

"Take your time," He argues as I try to get up, "Let's do this right," and he takes the lace from my foot.

I stand up then and just barely am able to stop myself from falling, but he's there to catch me before anything more can happen.

Weak, stomach wounded, shoulder stinging still, we stumble together from the room.

A nurse comes up to stop me but Haymitch gives her a knowing look and she backs off.

He takes me into another room that's connected to the one where Peeta is being worked on, the glass window separates me from him and I can see the doctors hard at work on his mangled flesh. This is surely a mirror on the other side, but I almost wish to see him open his eyes and look to me.

I can't stop from pressing my entire body to the glass, trying to get through it to him, watching as his body shudders and more blood litters the floor around his table.

"I've been sitting here for hours," Haymitch says from behind me.

"Hours," I repeat and then ask: "They've been working on him _that _long?"

I yank my eyes from the glass to look at Haymitch.

"He's died probably five or six times already. And he's lost a lot of blood."

Haymitch himself must've felt like he was dying five or six times too, just watching Peeta hang on.

I can't imagine how Peeta can come back from this. He's already been through so much, he came back from both the leg wound and the blood poisoning, the force field, being tortured and manipulated by Snow.

_How can anyone live from __**this**__?_

"He'll only have one appendage left."

_And his large, warm hands will never touch me again._

I turn back to the glass, watch as his head lulls to the side, as if to look at me. I touch the glass, wishing I could touch **him**, wishing I could be in there with him, in case I really do lose him.

Immediately, I remember what else has happened and my other hand flies down to my stomach,_ reflex._

_He is gone._

"And we've lost the baby," I whisper, tears rising again. _For not being pregnant anymore, my emotions are a wreck. I can't believe I've lost Peeta's child._

Haymitch pats my back as I let go again, as I cry for our loss. _And I must tell my husband that his child is no more. What will Peeta think of me then?_

* * *

><p>I wait, anxiously outside of the door, days later, hands gripping themselves tight, legs shaking, heart pounding.<em> I've been standing here for an hour now, at least, but I don't care. I'll wait years if I have to, to see him again. I'll wait years. But I don't have to.<em>

Today I get to see him. _I know that I'll get to see him in less than twenty four hours._

It's the only day that's mattered in my whole life, and it's the only one I'm completely afraid of. _So afraid that I skipped breakfast. It doesn't matter though, it's not like I'm eating for two anymore._

"Katniss?"

I turn to the door, stare at the doctor, and he grins when he sees me, "Peeta's waking up, you want to see him?"

"Of course I do!" I say, accidentally yelling at him.

He doesn't look startled at my reaction, just makes a motion to tell me to go on inside.

Peeta is laying on a soft white bed, which surprises me, because it's a definite change from the blood soaked one I saw him being fixed on before.

I almost expected to see him looking unusually dirty, black smears on his face or ugly scars, blood all over the floor, but that would be almost stupid to believe they'd keep him dirty. Instead, he is spotless. _As beautiful as ever._

His skin looks completely delicate and new, his gorgeous blond curls are as soft-looking as downy feathers, and his arms clash against it all.

The ridiculously dark metal laying against the white bed sheet and meeting with his skin.

My husband is a cyborg.

_My husband is a cyborg._

The thought sounds just as ridiculous as it looks._ It sounds absurd. But it is what it is._

I was furious with his leg before, but this has completely broken me. The only thing I can be glad for is that _he's alive._

_He's still breathing._

"Katniss."

His whisper touches my ears and startles me from the other side of the room.

And then he opens those eyelids, blond eyelashes long and blue eyes wide, innocent, loving. Yet he's also worried, happy, and relieved. It's an odd mix, but Peeta's never been good at hiding his concern from me.

"Katniss," and he smiles sadly.

I walk across to him and reach out my hand to touch the intense arm, the metal of it, the gear and strength behind it so different from our own muscles.

"Can you feel this?"

He looks confused, eyes boring into mine, and then he glances down at my hand, "Why–" and he's cut off.

I'm afraid it might startle him, might stop his heart, might make him cry, and I couldn't take that, because I'm pouring all of my own resources into holding it together.

But keeping it a secret from him for too long might make it worse. _It's best he knows now._

"In the explosion," I start to say as he sits up to look at the arms he has, flexing their fingers, "You sort of–"

"Got blown up?" He asks numbly, his eyes going up his arms to where their clamped, wired, soldered, and molded into his flesh.

"I thought you were dead."

"You saw me?" He looks up from his arms, "You saw my body?"

"Yeah," I say as my eyes start to water, "It was horrible, you were on your stomach and there... there was so much blood. And your arms–"

He moves before I can stop him, nearly climbing all of the way out of the bed, his right leg setting on the ground to hold him up as he grabs me into a hug, pulling me close with his new arms.

"I thought I'd lost you," I say. I'm about to let go and start crying out loud when he freezes and pulls away.

"The baby–" His eyes are wide, his mechanical hands gripping my shoulders tight, but not too tight, and he looks down at my stomach.

_He must've felt it in the hug._

My heart skips a beat at his expression, at the entire change of him.

I've never seen a reaction such as this from Peeta before, seen him literally fall to pieces. Watch as the man I know so well now, slowly lose it in front of me. _He's never lost control like this. _But it is worse than I could've imagined. His mouth open in shock, his body begins shaking. Not like he's cold, but they're uneven shudders.

The tears just pour down his face before he realizes what's happening, he closes his eyes and more just spill down his cheeks, dripping from his chin. His face turns red as he struggles to fight it, but I can tell he won't be able to for long.

His head drops to my chest, hiding his face. His arms shake with his body and his hands still grip my shoulders tight as he starts sobbing.

He's sobbing so hard that I start to cry as well.

Then he drops to his knees and hugs my waist close, I feel his strong arms wrapping around me and grabbing my shirt as he buries his face against my stomach and cries.

He doesn't cry like you expect a boy to, sobbing and whining, asking for his mother, and he doesn't cry silent like a grown man, trying to hide his tears shamefully.

Peeta's sort of crying breaks my heart unlike anything else he's ever done. I can hear his pulls for air, fighting to breathe against the sobs, struggling for air, his voice coming out just slightly when a particular sob wracks his body. His sniffles, gripping unsurely at me sometimes. He doesn't try to hide it, he doesn't deny it either. He just cries.

It reminds me of times past, how he's reacted to things before. Like when he was on the platform after talking to his loved ones before we got on the train and left for the seventy-fourth hunger games. _Those sad tears, looking like a beaten puppy. Those were almost little boy tears._

There was also the time he cried after Gale had died,_ silent man tears._

I'm sure he's cried other times I haven't seen, which would've been the same. But this is deserving of his reaction.

And if I thought the power he had over me by being kind and humble was overwhelming, or thoughts of him being a good father to our child were comforting, or fear of him being afraid he might rape me were terrifying, if those were overwhelming at all; seeing the man I love realize he's lost his child, realize he's lost it forever, that he won't be a father, is too much to bare.

A man, a real man, probably the only man in the world, and he's not a father anymore. Because he has to mourn the loss of his son or daughter, and he'll never know them, he's lost this piece of him self forever._ He'll never know what it would've been like._

_And neither will I, I'm not a mother anymore, I've lost him too._

_I have lost my son._

I lost my father, but I never thought of what it was like to lose a child. If he had lost me instead. Or the parents that saw their kids have to fight to the death in the arena.

Peeta's sobbing doesn't stop, even then, even when I'm crying as well. It doesn't stop when my legs get tired, or when he seems to have run out of tears. But after moments mourning our loss, just like I have, he has finally stood and cleaned the tears not just from his eyes, but mine as well.

He does but two things now that comfort me more than anything could've in this situation.

_First, he kisses me. _He presses his soft, dandelion soft lips to mine, drowns me in the happiness and excitement of it for a moment,_ and then he tells me how he feels._

"He," Peeta whispers, "Or she, was ours."

I nod in response, but he continues.

"That'll never change," And with his words, I can feel the hurt in his heart. It's my own as well, but it's new. I've at least had a few days to take my pain in, "We will always love them. Do you understand?"

"I do," I whisper, allowing him to comfort me, he's always so much stronger for the both of us.

"With that said," He looks into my eyes, deeply to convey his feelings, "I would've died completely, had I lost you as well. I'm relieved that you're safe and alive."

I start nodding as he pulls me close, as he kisses me, as he holds me tight.

Peeta's only dressed in his shorts, but his stance doesn't give away that he's either cold or embarrassed of his nudity.

Instead, he takes my face up in the warm metal hands of his and pulls me in for a kiss.

It is odd, feeling the metal that should be his soft, large palms, and feeling the lips that are still just as gentle as I remember. It's a new sensation, and I can't help feeling excited by it.

His kiss lingers and when he breaks away he asks: "Where's my clothes?"

It surprises me that the grief of his arms only lasted for a moment, and hardly even that, so I decide to ask him about it.

"Are you okay, Peeta?"

"Okay?" He stops and looks at me.

I grab his hands, hold them tightly in mine, and his eyes follow my gaze, steadying down on what can only be... _not feeling. Not touch._

"Well," he says slowly, squeezing my hands, "It's definitely different. It doesn't feel the same. But... What _are _these? Where did the come from?" He asks, pulling the hands up to look at them closer.

"They're something that District 13 was working on a long time ago, some _prototype_? I don't know if I'm saying that right. From what I've heard, they were just some test thing. **Weapons**."

"Weapons?" He looks at me again.

"Beetee said something like '_Cyborg_'," I say, feeling the smile spread, "They didn't use them because, well, humans have arms. And they didn't want to chance it. That's what I heard them say, but Beetee modified them after the explosion, for you, since they were originally full arms. They kept the useful parts of your arms that you had left, so you could work the shoulders. I don't know, he said a lot of things. I wasn't listening to all of it."

"What's a _Cyborg_?"

I shrug, not even knowing the term myself, "I don't know, it's all complicated. I couldn't even imagine a prosthetic leg, let alone a leg that moves like yours. And those arms are something else entirely."

"You're not kidding," he says, still whispering, "The fact that I have a general idea of touching you, it's odd, like tingling, but it's definitely there."

"Wait," I say, taking his hands in mine, "You can feel with these?"

"Sort of," he says, smiling at the motion, "It's more than my leg, a lot more. It's a nice comfort to have."

"You're going to have to go into training for them at some point. 13 wants to use you as some guinea pig, to try them out in regular use. You're not some super robot man though, but you need to know how to use the muscle in them, that's what Beetee said. You aren't... Bothered by this?"

Peeta shrugs, much like I did before, "I can't really complain, can I? The Capitol has taken away so much more from others. I'm not going to let this slow me down."

"But," I try to convey some more sense of reality to him, "Your arms–"

"I'm still able to wrap them around you," He says, doing so and drawing me close, pressing our bodies together.

His grin widens and he whispers to me, "And once I get my strength back, I'll fix the pregnant thing as well."

My cheeks flush at his implications, as his hands grasp my back and he begins to kiss my neck.

"I love you," He says, lips brushing against my ear, "I love you so much, Katniss."

I run my hand through his hair and hug him tightly, squeeze him as if he's my every thing. _And he is, _"I love you too."

Then he draws away and stares at me again, "Tell me that Haymitch, your mother, and Prim are alright, please."

* * *

><p>When Prim sees Peeta walking down the hall by my side, she's startled at first, hesitant, but Peeta just holds out his arms for her.<p>

She belts down the hallway and launches herself into his arms, crying and laughing.

I've always enjoyed the happiness and positive energy Peeta gives to my family, how he fuels the laughter and enjoyment of everyone around him. It's infectious to Prim, and she becomes a force on her own when he's around.

My mother follows, slower, and then pulls Peeta into a tight, warm, welcoming hug.

We are, in short, a complete family. _And though we've lost one of our own, _I think, rubbing my hand over my empty belly, _we are still here for each other._

_He may have lost his mother and father, his two brothers, and all of his friends, but he still has us, and that matters._

And the light in Peeta's eyes, as he knows he has a home, a family to love him, I have to struggle not to cry for the loss again.

His training that we take him in to today only lasts an hour and a half, and then Beetee sends him off with me for rest, for relaxing once again.

But Peeta doesn't plan to listen to the relaxing part.

The moment the doors are closed, he pulls me in and covers me in his warmth.

_Though I love just being with Peeta, and he's a great man, a great person, will be a great father, has been an amazing friend... he is an outstanding lover._

_He's so gentle, so attentive, so loving._

And this is the first time in a while, that he's actually been _**with **_me for it.

When he kisses me and runs his hands down my body, removes my clothes, I can see the grin he has, the happiness and he says: "Who knew it would take losing my arms to get rid of the... Prior problems."

"You see me?" I ask, to be sure, and he nods.

"I see you happy," He leans down, kisses me, lowers his body and his scalding mouth, devouring my flesh, sending chills down my legs, making my stomach drop in excitement, and gives me just enough to keep me from tipping over the edge.

_I'm grateful, that Peeta, even though I was so jealous of it before, before I knew him, that he's good at everything._

This is a man that can do anything he puts his mind to. Baking, painting, talking, speaking, staring, smiling, hunting, sprinting, lifting, he's good at it all. _He's even better at being intimate._

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Chapter 8 will be in Peeta's pov. Promise. This is not the end of B. Review?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	28. Chapter 7 OPTC: What Were We?

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option C<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Oy, oy, oy. Wanted to get this out ASAP.

I'm a little surprised that I managed to sneak this out today. Seriously. TristAn's playing Terraria, so he's sorta sedated atm.

Gives me free reign.

Enjoy!

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Hopefully I get to all of you! XP_

Emilie12: "It really should. "

Cant Wait: "Yeah. Option C is fun stuff. I really love them all, but C is VERY different."

Em: "Bahaha, you won't have to worry about all of this soon. Trust me. Peeta will get quite selfish soon. Reasonably selfish, I think. And... Screw Gale. Lol."

Micmic022: "Right? Psst, read the comment to the review above. ^ Right there."

LittleAsian: "Responded to via yer acc, you know that. ^_~"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

So if it's just tonight,

The animal inside, let it live then die.

Like it's the end of time,

Like everything inside,

Let it live then die.

This is our last chance.

Give me your hands.

'Cause our world is spinning at the speed of light.

The night is fading, heart is racing.

Now, just come and love me like we're gonna die.

I'm not asleep, I'm up for the fight,

Into the magic.

And I don't want the concrete.

I am alive, comes with the tragic.

So if it's just tonight,

The animal inside, let it live then die.

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><p><strong>Chapter 7 - What Were We?<strong>

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><p>I don't even pay attention to what's happening when Katniss comes in, because seeing her in her dress breaks whatever control I have, stills my tongue, gluing it to the roof of my mouth.<p>

Her dress isn't over extravagant, it's simple instead, form-fitting at her waist but loose below, all puffed out and making her look significantly thinner than she already is. It's a gentle green that matches perfectly to the cake that I made.

Her eyes meet mine for a moment while she walks, while she holds Haymitch's arm, while she joins Gale at the end, and then she looks away.

I squeeze my fists tight, bite my jaw closed as the man before them begins to speak, and then Haymitch looks at me, meets my eyes as well and I... _I have to. If I don't do this now, I'll never get another chance._

_I'll lose her for good._

The camera is rolling, film crew excitedly watching, and I stand up from my seat to **move **them once again.

My declarations always stun people.

"Katniss!"

Everyone in the seats turn back to look at me, Katniss herself does, even Gale looks back, and Haymitch grins smugly, _knowingly_.

Katniss, confused and annoyed, raises a brow as the camera crew turns their attention onto me.

My heart plummets as they all stare. Which I should've expected, and I did, I just didn't brace myself for it. And I have to fight everything inside of me not to turn away and hide from the publicity.

_This is the second time I get to declare my love to her, for the world._

"Katniss," I say, moving from my chair and out into the walkway, "You can't marry him."

Gale glares furiously, as if daring me to continue, but Katniss lowers her arms and turns bodily to me.

"**And why is that**?" She asks, grin spreading over her face.

I glance at Prim, see her nod in agreement and then look back to Katniss, "Because, I haven't been completely honest. And you can't be with him, you're suppose to be with me."

Eyes widen and a few gasps sound around the room.

"I love you, Katniss."

She slowly walks back, Gale reaching out to try and stop her, but she flicks her arm away from him, "_I think we need to talk_."

_Damn right, we need to talk._

Katniss looks back to Gale and nods softly, "I'll only be a moment, don't worry."

She gives us leave and takes me by the arm, into the building and down a hall before nudging me into an empty room.

Instead of talking, as I expect, she crosses her arms and stares at me.

"So," She whispers aggressively, "The person that supposedly _hates _my guts, and can't stand me, has decided he _cares_?"

"No," I try to explain, "The guy who _cares _has decided to **stop **pretending like he hates your guts... And can't stand you."

She presses her lips together and stares up at me still.

"Katniss," I start, taking a breath and holding out my hands to her, "I've been stubborn, I've been an idiot, and I'm sorry."

"No," She interrupts me, raising up her hand for silence, "No, Peeta Mellark. You can't just apologize."

"Katniss–"

"No," She repeats, "After what you've said to me, I'm beginning to wonder what kind of person you really are."

"Katniss–"

"Stop!" She finally shouts and I close my mouth shut, "Gosh, please.** Let me talk**."

I nod.

"What kind of guy ditches his... Whatever I was to you, what kind of guy just ditches her like that?" She asks, giving me a skeptical look, "It kept bothering me, I kept wondering why you would do that. Why you'd be so mean. Is it _me_? Am I just not good enough? Or is it more than that?"

"More?" I ask, my guts shriveling up at her calculative glare.

"Maybe, you thought it was easy, just dumping me off on someone else, after I was damaged," She accuses and my eyes widen at what she's saying, "Maybe you're just a coward who couldn't take care of the girl once she was broken. Taking the _easy _way out."

"Katniss," I say finally, standing up for myself, "You know me. I mean, come on, you know I'm not even capable of that. You _know _I'm not like that at all."

"No I don't," She raises her voice over me again, "The truth is,** I don't know you**. And I'm beginning to think I never did. How blinded was I to even have called you a friend. And from things I've seen before, I know you were a lot more than that at times."

"Katniss–"

"Let me talk!" She says, raising her hand again, "You didn't even _care _about me, Peeta. Just enough to come in and find me, sure. But I wasn't worth the effort once you saw what was done to me, is that how it is?"

"That's not it at all."

"I think it is–"

"Well, you're wrong!" I find myself shouting finally, moving towards her, "You don't know me, Katniss. You don't know me anymore. But that's not the kind of person I am. I mean, I cared about you. Really _cared_, I just–"

"What?" She shouts back, getting in my face, "You just _what_?"

"I just loved you!" I grab her arms tight in my hands, "I just loved you, Katniss. I wanted you to be happy, and you were always on the fence about me and Gale, and I didn't want to take that from you again! I didn't want to hurt you again."

Her eyebrows narrow even more, a look of true hate coming over her face, "Well, you really screwed that up, didn't you?"

Not wanting to hear her argument anymore, not wanting to fight her anymore, or myself, I remove one of my hands, grab behind the back of her head, tangling the fingers in her soft, brown hair, and pull her lips flush against mine.

The kiss isn't gentle, not even in the most remote of ways.

It's harsh, biting, hurting, and I'm rough enough with her that it's not something her body was even use to before she had her mind wiped.

Katniss struggles against me at first, pushes against my chest for only a moment, and then she's wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me down to her and tilting her head to the side, breathing wildly.

It doesn't calm down, it escalates.

Suddenly, I can't have nearly enough of her. _I want her. I need this._

All of the fighting I've been doing has gone in reverse and it's everything I can do to stop from completely consuming her.

I have to remind myself that,_ technically, this is a first for her._

In her mind, she's never even kissed me before, not even faking it in the first arena.

I force myself from her, guilty, burning with lust, and ashamed that I've spoiled this completely. If I'd just let her walk down the isle, I wouldn't be stuck right here.

Her own face is flushed, more red in it than a tomato, and she covers her mouth in surprise.

"I'm sorry–"

She holds her hand up again, eyes wide, and then moves to leave the room.

"Katniss," I grab her arm to stop her from leaving, "Don't go."

Her stare bores into me, eating away what little courage I still have, she almost looks disgusted, but I can't tell who with. _Me? Or herself?_

She pulls her arm back to get away.

"Don't marry him," I say, my own eyes wide, my chest heaving up and down, gathering air back and calming my racing heart.

"Why?" She asks, looking me up and down, "What have you shown to me? That you can try to **force **me? That you can push me away?"

_Oh... no._

"I haven't seen anything from you that makes me want to know you, Peeta," She says, anger rising, "You were right before. **I don't want to remember you.**"

And then she leaves.

The possibility of ever being with her, that leaves too.

All that's left is to live with what I've done. And honestly... _What have I done?_

* * *

><p><em>Tactless, stupid and rash, tactless, tactless,<em>_** tactless.**_

I can't believe I just thought I could run to her and admit it all, and that she'd just be fine with me throwing myself on her.

_Desperate._

But that's not all my intentions were.

_I couldn't help myself._

It's been a long time since I've been able to hold her in my arms, to kiss her, to touch her at all. It's hard to resist when I'm so use to her just completely receiving me.

But she knew me then._ She doesn't know me anymore._

_It's back to square one, just like before the games. She thinks I'm out to hurt her, that I have ill intentions. And I've only fueled that fire._

_Why do I have to be selfish at the worst of times?_

* * *

><p>I pack the duffel bag, shoving my clothes into it, shoving all of my belongings away in it, preparing for the team they're sending out in the morning. It's about time I've seen some action, about time I've moved on, and continued with my life.<p>

I'm moments from changing into a pair of pants when there's a knock on the door.

Reluctantly, I move to open it and freeze where I'm standing when I see that it's..._ Katniss, again_.

She's still in her dress, but she looks thoroughly annoyed when she sees me.

"Yes?" I ask and she storms in past me, holding the bottom of her dress slightly higher.

I turn to follow her, closing the door behind, "Come on in."

She reels around and glares at me, "Do you have a **fake leg**?"

I blink, surprised by her sudden question as her eyes slowly move down the smooth expanse of my bare chest and stomach, down to look at my legs, both exposed because I'm only in tight underwear.

Her face pales for _other reasons_, I think,_ because she looks away._

"I do," I confirm.

She turns her entire body away, "Can you get some clothes on?"

I move to the bed and pick the folded pants up from the sheets, "I was just about to do that. I didn't know it was you, or that you'd come storming in."

She starts to turn back and freezes when she sees that I've still not gotten dressed completely.

"Do you mind?" I ask.

"How long does it take you to get pants on?" She nearly shouts, looking away again.

I pull them on over my artificial leg at last, yank them up and button them before she can turn again. When she doesn't, though, I move to her back and touch her shoulder, "I'm slower. Fake leg."

She turns her head and meets my eyes, cheeks flushed and gloved hand reaching up to ghost over mine, "I'm sorry, I didn't think."

I nod, try to smile, try to give her some sense of the old me.

"You lost your leg," She whispers, turning back, our faces close, "How?"

"Well," I start, clearing my throat, backing away, and sitting on the bed to get my shirt, "The cut from Cato, and then the blood poisoning did the most of it. But in the final battle, I was stabbed through again, and that pretty much did it for my leg. There wasn't much choice after that."

Katniss walks forward and takes the corner of the bed by me, "Was it hard? In the beginning?"

I shrug, thinking back to it, "It's been a year, and it's still hard. But before, I had to sit down to get pants and shoes on. And if I tried to do anything, like pull on a shirt, or pick something up, or stretch, the balance was off sometimes. The worse was when I fell."

"Fell?" She asks in surprise.

"Yeah," I say, smiling, _she's never even asked me of this before, not at all._

"Sometimes, quite a few times, I would try to do something, and just fall," I explain, "You don't think about it, and sometimes you can completely forget that you still are missing one leg. Sometimes it feels like it's still there. And the foot moves for balance on reflex. It's not like that with this leg. And I would just fall. I'd fall so fast and it'd surprise me, that I didn't have time to catch myself. It's hard to imagine not having that power."

She nods with some kind of understanding and then reaches forward, "I remembered about the leg. All on my own."

"How?" I ask.

Her eyes meet mine as she touches the knee of my pants, "I guess it was Gale. And seeing both of his legs, it made me feel... Confused? I don't know if that's the right word. I was expecting one leg to be–"

"You were expecting him to be missing a leg?"

She smiles sheepishly, "Once I saw he wasn't, a few things clicked together. I remember... Feeling pain, when I knew you'd lost your leg. But I don't know why I'd blame it on myself."

"The end of the fight," I try to explain, to help clear things up for her, "At the end of it, with Cato, and the berries."

Katniss squeezes the leg of the pants, stares at it, and then sits back, putting her hand to her chest, "I feel guilty. But I, I feel something else, too."

I watch her while she mulls it over, while her eyes flicker, gray and beautiful,_ she's confused._

"Something _like_?" I ask.

Finally, she shakes her head slowly, "I don't know. I don't know what to think of you anymore, Peeta. Every time you say something I get these flashes of talking before and you seem so different in them, than how you are now."

"It's not how I am now," I explain, "You only see me different now because you don't know everything I went through. And I've kind of been... A little immature lately."

"Why's that?" She asks, "I'd think you'd take your time, trying to help. That's what I assume."

"I should, would, normally do," I stumble around the words, turning to stare deep into her eyes, "I'm a good liar. But I **don't **lie to you, Katniss. At least, I **never **have. I just got so carried away with trying to make you happy with another man. And I know that's not how I should've handled it. But I felt so guilty the first time, taking you from Gale. And there's a lot of points where I question if you even wanted to be with me. I know that's silly, and stupid, but I just was always afraid that your heart wasn't into it."

"It _feels _like it was," She says, face heating up.

"I hope it was," I say, reaching towards her and tucking the bangs back behind her ear, "I hope you wanted everything I did to you. Because I always did it with my heart, with you in mind. With my greatest intentions."

She closes her eyes as I lean in and take her lips up in mine, kiss the softness of them, like I should've before.

I'm more gentle, like the first time, my lips enjoying the feel of hers as they treat them.

Her hand reaches up, touching mine that's cupping her cheek and she squeezes it, making a sound in her throat, wanting more.

This time, I don't fight to rush things, or to take her quickly, rashly. This time, I take things slower, slow enough to enjoy each and every moment.

I want to have this with me, _forever_.

She breaks the kiss for air and stares at me, taking in deep breaths, "It's like I remember this."

_She'll remember a lot more, soon._

I pull her hair around to her front, long and braided. Then I move behind her to untie the laced tightness of her corset.

She shivers as I run a hand down her back, pulling the brace away and setting it aside.

I trail my lips over the back of her neck, to the curve of her shoulder and then still there, grabbing her arms to pull her against me.

"Peeta," She breathes out, soft and nervous, then she turns to look at me as I unclasp the rest of her dress, releasing her waist.

Her eyes linger over my face and she lifts a gloved hand to my collar, running her thumb over the top button of my shirt. Then she turns even more to unbutton it.

"Katniss," I whisper, leaning forward to grab her mouth again, trace my tongue over her lips and her breath comes out in shock and satisfaction. My hands grip at her waist, pull her against me before lifting her and setting her higher on the bed.

I don't dare break the kiss as I help her take my shirt off, as her hands begin to pull my pants back down my hips.

I lean forward, pushing her back on the bed, climbing over her, slowly, gently. I'm careful to not ruffle up the bottom of her wedding gown when she tries to close the distance between us again. She's too eager. And it's far too arousing this time.

And fortunately, she doesn't stop me.

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you enjoyed. This one is also EXTRA long. Review? ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	29. Chapter 7 OPTD: Some Place That's Safe

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

_**Do me a favor, and read the ending note once you've finished the chapter, please. ^^ Thank you.**_

Onto the AN?

Fic related, I want to get it out of the way... This is an AWESOME chapter. That I wrote, rewrote, and edited, about 8 or 9 times. An insane amount. I'm not even kidding.

Also, I been talking to my bro, Will, a lot. And he has supplied me with MANY ideas fer Option D.

If you have ANY questions or concerns, feel free to write them in yer review, and I will get back to you asap. You know I will.

Life related? A few of you like my comments about **Dexter**. And I just want to say... That the first episode killed me, in a good way. Between the two cops at the beginning, the hammer time joke with him dancing, Deb's dirty mouth, and the "Stop talking, Dexter" part, both me and TristAn were completely DYING with laughter. It was good stuff.

Me and Will will (Will will?) be finishing up Dexter Season 5 on Friday and watching the first episode of 6 as well. So excited.

I STILL have not yet **moved **out of my apartment, soon I hope. Ugh. And I'm doing like 8 hours of over time each week, so _. I been PACKING like a beast.

Oh, and **Glee **was good too, love it. The Kurt and Rachael thing was so odd, yet expected, yet not, and enjoyed, and odd... It was just... I'm glad they had it. ^^;

Alright, enough about me, now about you.

I want to go ahead and say that I love and adore you all. There are quite a few new people coming up the tree, a good few that are power reading. Welcome to all of the new people, welcome BACK to all of the oldies.

I love you all so much. I hope that I keep you all entertained, and that you continue to enjoy my options.

And if you haven't read P yet... Go give it a chance. ^_~

Oh, and this chapter is an **extra page**, so enjoy the extra content that I've supplied in apology fer the cutty updates. Soon we'll be back on track and with a good, healthy schedule.

Thank you lot, please continue reading! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Anonymous Reviewer from the Sequel Note of PWPP (this will be available in that fic as well): "I'm the exact same way! I'm glad to hear that you like the fic so much. I think I can speak fer most when I say that B and D are very loved."

EmmaN'Ms: "My site is easy enough to get to. And obvious. It is simply www. Kakavegegurl .com Yeah, it's seriously that easy. XP You wouldn't think so, would you? I love writing C, and P is a neat thing to see happen. I know a lot of people wanted something like that. So, you demand, I supply. ^_~ Peeta has had a bit of a stiff start in C, but things are going to hit the fan REAL soon."

D: "Yeah, there are a good few of you out there that power read my stuff, and I think that's amazing. I'm completely thrilled that some people like it THAT much. I'm glad it hooked you in, too. I hope that I supplied you with great insight and enjoyment, laughter and tears. Welcome to the group! I hope that you'll remain as long as you're satisfied. Thank you so much fer taking the time to review and compliment me, and let me know yer here! /love"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

No song inspiration fer this chapter. XP

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><p><strong>Chapter 7 - Some Place That's Safe<strong>

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><p>Shadows cover his solid, chiseled face and build as the dim light shines in from behind him. It's darker outside though, so it's blinding to us. But it takes little time for our eyes to adjust, revealing the sharp details of his clothes and his features. And the large gun sitting at home in his embrace, it's at rest, but it still unnerves me.<p>

Familiar cheekbones and storm gray eyes that stare at us in innocent surprise, short black hair that spikes up oddly in the back, making him look young. He's healthy, and tanner than I've known him to be, and the unkempt look of him makes it more comfortable to be standing in front of him once more. Only this time, he's almost shorter than me.

I'm not looking up to him, _not physically at least. _And the wideness of his eyes, the grin tugging on his lips, the stubble of five o'clock shadow, the wear and tear of his outfit, it all makes him appear just as approachable as he's always been.

_Isn't he suppose to be... in pieces?_

Katniss gasps, one hand on her stomach for support, her other hand gripping mine tight, tighter now.

The man, dressed in simple hunting gear, moves inside of the entrance to allow us in, "Hurry up, in case anyone else is around." His voice is just as light, soft, and melodic as I can remember, but it does hold the presence of near panic and alertness.

We both walk in nervously, my leg is numb, not just from standing, but from overwhelming shock as well. I imagine Katniss's are too.

The door slides closed behind us and the lights come back on, dim still, or more dim, just barely making it visible down a long, messy, dirty hallway with soft white padded walls that leads down deeper into the ground.

"Peeta Mellark," He says, looking me over, sizing me up, "You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you, kid. Built just like your father. You look great."

"You too," I joke, feeling the knot in my throat, just staring at him, "Especially for a dead man."

"I distinctly remember you saying before that your wife–" He raises a brow at Katniss, who's still staring up at him with wide eyes, dumbfounded, "–is pregnant."

His own eyes go down, homing in on to her hand on her stomach.

"She is, sir," I confirm, swallowing and staring at him.

I wasn't even slightly worried of the judgement from my own family in District 12, Haymitch, who was always close, or Katniss's mother. But her father, Oeric Everdeen? That's different.

"How far along is she?" He asks, his gaze still on her protruding belly.

"Nearly five months."

He looks back to me and checks my body out once again, observing, judging, differently this time, though, "I guess I should've been around more."

I crack a smile at him and shrug, "There's more to it than that, sir. Things have changed a lot."

"What does your father think?" He asks.

"My father's dead, sir," I tell him, "But he knew before, and he was alright with it then. So was your wife."

"We shouldn't stay here too long," Oeric says suddenly, "Not if Nor is dead, let's go inside, alright?" And he motions for us to follow.

We do, but I add information while we walk, "We took care of the Peacekeepers, as far as I know. Katniss and I."

I turn to her as she stays silent.

"Are you okay?"

She nods numbly, but her eyes look at me, widening even more as if to say 'is this really happening?'

I smile and nod, "In time."

"What?" Katniss's father asks and I look forward to him.

"We're just a little confused. You'll explain everything, right, sir?"

"Stop calling me 'sir'," He says and I can hear the smile in his voice as he keeps walking the quick pace towards what looks like a brighter area of this... place?

Katniss hugs close to me and asks softly: "Are we safe?"

Her father stops and turns to us, holding his hand up, "People are sick, down here. There was a sort of problem. It's hard to explain, but both of you are safe from what they've got. I don't have it, and we know it's not affecting anyone else. Other then that, there's plenty of food and water, and sleeping quarters."

Katniss nods, staring up at him, "They're dying?"

Oeric turns back to keep walking, but answers with a nod of his head, "It's pretty bad. I don't know if your stomach would be able to handle it, Katniss."

"My stomach?" She asks, looking annoyed, "I cleaned pus out of his leg," she motions to me, "I think I can handle it."

Her father lets out a loud bellow of laughter, nearly shaking the lights above us back into life, "Did you, really? I can't see you doing that." He looks back at me, "Did she, really?"

"She did, si-uh, she did," I clear my throat, smiling, "It was pretty gross, and she took good care of me. Katniss has a gift for taking care of people."

"Does she?" He asks, raising a brow at her, "You sound more and more like your mother, Katniss."

"Not really," Katniss mumbles.

"Please," I correct her, "Don't get me wrong, sir, Katniss is an amazing huntress too. She's outstanding with prey. But she's a great healer."

Oeric looks quite pleased with my response, smiling wide and finally we reach the end of the hallway and the entrance to another room.

"This is just a sort of common room, people never really come in here, though. The sick and wounded are in the wards, and there are others in their own rooms. Do you want to talk here?" He asks, turning to us.

I nod, helping Katniss into a seat before taking up one of my own.

Oeric moves to the seat on the opposite side of the table and stares forward at us, "First of order, you tell me how you got pregnant," he looks at Katniss sternly, "That's what I'm worried about."

Katniss's face flushes and she bows her head, "It's a long story."

"We were both reaped last year," I take over, knowing she doesn't want to, "We both went in, we both came out. Things sort of escalated from there, sir. Snow didn't believe us, that we were really together. And we... Well, we couldn't... That is... I mean–" Words fail me with his stern look and I find myself blushing as well.

"We love each other, and we were a bit irresponsible when we got drawn up a second time to go back into the Games," I try to justify, "We just sort of... Well, we wanted to enjoy what time we had left, that's the truth of it."

Katniss's father crosses his arms, "Drawn up a second time?" He asks suspiciously.

"The Quarter Quell pulled tributes from the current victors in each district," I explain.

He nods slowly, understanding, "And were you married at that time?"

"Yes sir," I confirm for him, "We were married a while before we had se–before we consummated."

I don't know why it is, but Katniss's father brings instability in me, not fear like the Capitol, or like my mother. But a stern fear that comes from a parent that doesn't like you doing something wrong, a concerned father, for his daughter. After all, I feel like I'm just ten years old around the guy. _It's been a while._

Katniss's father grins wide then and nods in agreement, "Sounds right, sounds like you've done right. I always knew I liked you, Peeta. You're just like your father in that respect, a good man."

I nod, trying to feel a little bit more easy about him.

"Daddy–" Katniss closes her mouth and her face reddens again, "Father," she corrects herself, "I'm sorry, I'm just confused. I'm just a little confused about how... How you're alive, I guess."

He nods and stands up, "It's a–Well, it's a complicated story. But I think I owe it to you, Katniss."

We sit, waiting for him to explain, and he does.

"It starts when your mother and I were younger, and the first real rebellion inside of District 12 started. This was after Haymitch Abernathy became a victor. I guess you know him, since you both were in the games? He was your mentor?"

Katniss and I nod, and then I add, a little weakly: "Haymitch was with us. Katniss and Nor, your wife, Prim."

He looks at us and stops explaining, closing his lips tight, "They're–Where are they?"

Katniss bows her head again, "They're gone. The Peacekeepers killed them."

Despite the loss, Katniss's father just nods. He accepts this loss easier than I expect, it surprises me. But at the same time, I don't really know what he's been through, so maybe it shouldn't. Maybe loss is just common enough for him now. Or maybe he'd already accepted that he'd lost them... when he died?

"Haymitch was a dear friend of mine and my wife," Oeric continues on, "Seeing what happened to his girl, his family, and then to him... It destroyed him. And, in it's own way, we lost a friend the moment he was reaped."

My stomach clinches, thinking of Haymitch, of his burdens in the past.

"What he went through," Katniss's father stands up and walks to a desk, picking up a long, black notebook, "It destroyed him. And that was when we started to fight back."

"That was years before you... You died, though," Katniss thinks aloud.

Oeric nods, setting the book down in front of us, "It escalated slowly. Deaths of friends, alienation, distrust amongst the unfortunate and less unfortunate, Haymitch drowned his self in alcohol, your mother, Katniss, became more afraid of what to say around her friends. She was with child, and the last thing she needed was a threat over her head. Lashings were dealt everyday, and she was always afraid that they would catch me coming in from hunting. It just kept getting worse."

Katniss stares at him, new to this news, me as well, and then she asks what I want to, "If you were planning a rebellion for that long, what happened when I was eleven?"

Her father motions to the notebook and says: "Open it."

I reach my hand out, taking it and pulling it close, opening the front cover to find...

"Battle plans?" Katniss asks in surprise as I share it with her.

"They involved members of the Capitol," Oeric says softly, sitting down once again, "Gamemakers, one named Plutarch–"

"Heavensby," I say, stomach plummeting, "Yeah. Seneca Crane? Cinna, a Stylist?"

Oeric raises a brow, "You know about it?"

"Not about this one," I explain, turning the pages, "They were still going for it when we went in. Cinna was Katniss's stylist, he started everyone's obsession with Mockingjays by designing Katniss's outfits, but Snow had him executed. Plutarch was Lead Gamemaker in the Seventy-fifth games. He gave Katniss a hint to the end of it, with some watch, and he was there when we were saved. Seneca Crane was killed the year before though, because he saved us. We never met him."

Oeric frowns when I say this and nods, still accepting the loss, "Seneca was a good man. I never really knew Cinna, but he was one of them, not a stylist at the time, but he was working on it. There were a lot of us, most of the miners in District Twelve."

"Gale's father," Katniss says, touching the dusty paper where the name 'Hawthorne' resides, "He was blown up too... But, wait. What was that then? If you blew up the mines on purpose... is **that **how it happened?"

Oeric smiles at her, "That was what we did to try and escape. It was a long plan, hopefully ending with the death of President Snow. But out plans were ruined when one of the Gamemakers turned on us and set a trap. I escaped, and a couple of others. We all sort of ended up here, one way or another. Nor took us in, helped get us fixed up, gave us food."

"How long have you been here?"

Oeric looks at me and shrugs, "A year or so. We ran from the Peacekeepers for a long time. Hid out, took care of ourselves. Coming here was nice, and we could finally relax because it's well hidden. You'd be surprised the amount of runaways that Nor has found within just this year, too. So many people are fleeing from the districts, trying to escape. So we're use to taking in new people. Something big must be happening to chase so many away. "

"The war is in progress," I tell him and decide to start asking a few more things, to clear the air, "Are we the only ones you've gotten from Twelve?"

"No, we've got a few, but not many," He answers, "Most are from Eleven, I can't imagine how many don't make it out there in the wild, when they run away, though."

"So, if you all are runaways, and get found here, by Nor... Then who is Nor? Where did he come from?"

Oeric smiles wide and answers: "Nor and his entire family were born and raised here. They've lived here since before the war. The entire town was so small and invisible that when they were taking people from their homes, the Capitol army never even came close to here. It was a town that was very discreet. I've wondered how many are out there, this can't be just the one."

"But they're sick?"

"Just some of the plague, or illness that was passing months ago. They caught it outside," Oeric explains, "It's transmitted through blood, as far as I know. It's not easy to get. But the first one of them that was carrying it was being cared for by our resident healer when she got infected as well, a cut on her hand, and we watched her deteriorate in days. We're not quite sure why it was so effective to her. But the others that caught it when they were bringing him in have been sick since. Only three have died so far."

"How did he catch it in the first place?" Katniss asks with wide eyes.

"Some..." Oeric scratches his head, "Some muttation that the Capitol released, that's our best guess. It tore most of the men into pieces. That was the first search team that we had, the original group. And the muttation came out of no where, started tearing people up. Nor didn't get the disease because he was scout on the return. The transmittance that way was pretty obvious when they came back and it started spreading around."

"Transmitted by blood?" I ask, thinking back, then I look to Katniss, "Have you heard of something like that?"

"Aids?" Katniss shrugs, "But that wouldn't... Well, I don't know. But I can't imagine it being Aids."

"It's not," Oeric sighs, "I've never seen anything like it. Nor thought it might be Capitol created, like the muttations, like the one that attacked them in the first place, maybe some sort of thing with it's claws? Or it's teeth? Maybe even it's saliva."

The shivering idea of a mutated, manipulated disease spread by a beast, unlike anything I've seen before, bothers me.

Katniss seems open to the idea and suggests: "A muttation Aids? But I can see them without worry of catching anything?"

"Yeah, they're safe to be around, as long as you don't have any open wounds. Though, I suggest staying away from forms of bodily fluid, just in case."

"Have you seen the muttation since the initial attack of it?" I ask.

Oeric nods, "We've seen it a few times, walking through town. It walks around a lot. Nor was out with the team, keeping an eye out for any runaways. Imagine some of them finding that muttation. They wouldn't stand a chance."

I agree. _Exhausted? Maybe hungry and thirsty? And then to stumble on something like that. It would ruin someone's day._

"Let me take you to your room, first," Oeric says finally, slapping his hands on the table and standing up, "After you settle in there, put your bags down, we can talk more. You can eat, I imagine you two are hungry? And you can also meet the rest."

"Why aren't they here?" I ask curiously.

Oeric motions for us to follow again as he answers, "They don't like to be so close to this entrance, I guess. Mostly because of the muttation lately, but it's more than that."

"Like what?"

Oeric laughs, "This room is the closest to the surface."

_Closest to the... surface?_

I share a look with Katniss.

"How many people are here?" I ask finally.

"Hmm," Oeric seems to think about it, walking us into an open elevator, "Maybe three million?"

"What?" I ask when the doors close, "Three million?"

"Well, we're not just runaways, Peeta, there's more than just that," Oeric justifies, "The families of people that were here before me are advanced individuals. Quite advanced, really. You'd be surprised what man can create when they're not being held down by the Capitol, or taken out by the war that created Panem. It's a long story, and I know a few people that can handle explaining it much better than I can."

"I'm confused, if these people are so advanced, then why haven't you shown your faces? Why did Nor and his group look so worn? And tan..."

Katniss walks on beside me in silence, finally handing me over the last of the packs that she can't carry.

"Nor lived on the surface with the search group for the most part. They were like the watch out team. And these people haven't surfaced yet for a few reasons. They didn't want to become involved, first of all. And really, who would? They also didn't want to become known, in case they were imprisoned. And then there's the third reason."

"What's the third reason?" Katniss asks.

"They don't really know how bad it is up there," Oeric explains, "They know there's some sort of power, Snow, but they don't really know what he's been doing. It's coming to a head, though. And the board is going to have to make some sort of decision. They do have strong enough weaponry, it might be easier than they think, they just need convincing."

"Put Peeta in there with them," Katniss says lightly, "He can convince a fish that it can fly."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

So the Board team.

I would like a good few of you, loyal, static reviewers, to think hard, and make me one. One fer each of you. If I don't get a response, I'm totally gonna ask you anyways, but I figured I'd ask beforehand, give you some forewarning, time to think.

You have a good amount of time already to think of what you want. Once Option C comes around again, I need them all.

You can either submit them via **email, twitter, a note on here, facebook**, any thing you want. It's your choice.

You can base the character off of you, or not, that's your choice too. Want some limits?

The age can be anywhere between **six years old and fifty**. Male or female, that's your choice.

You can make a scientist, an infected, a missionary, a spokesperson, a leading type. Anything you want. There's going to be at LEAST two of each of those on the Board. If you make a child, they obviously won't be on the board, but they will be SOME WHERE.

I need a **name**, you can choose to supply last and first or just first, I need eye colors, hair color, skin, all **general good details**. Maybe some **dominate trait **that separates them from most. Something like that.

These won't be HUGE characters, they're all fer you. So you are in here. ^^

Alright, longest ending note EVAR.

Love you all, review? MAKE YER DAMN CHARACTER? XP

~KaKaVegeGurl


	30. SOMETHING TO HOLD YOU OFF

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Preview<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Between buying things fer a house, going and getting it checked out, writing Only Skin, babysitting my cousins baby, Aiden, and packing, I've not had much time to put Option A and P together just yet.

I'm really busy a LOT right now, doing 11 hours of werk each day and the hour commute to werk, time is being stressed a LOT.

So, fer now, I'm going to give you this PREVIEW, so that you can sit and wet yer pants in anticipation fer the next chapters. (Jenna, Anabelle, this is fer you two, LOL)

I have, fer you, a preview of something fer the SITE, some of Option A Chapter 8 and Option P chapter 8, and some scenes I've written RECENTLY and had to take out to go into the interview.

**Be aware that what you are reading is not COMPLETE, it's not edited at ALL. **I don't have any time. But I should get something out today, right? Something to hold you off? Oh, and fer Josh Hutcherson's bday. ^^

Wish him a happy 19th.

And this is good fer you to see me in RAW form. No editing at all. Maybe doubled werds, misspelled things, lots of then and than confusion. You get it all here.

Now I'm going to go and spend the last hour of my day with my fiancé, who's had none of me today. ^^; We're gonna go play Wow or something, and I can let my muscles finally relax. Whew.

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

None what so ever.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Option A - Preview<strong>

I'm startled by the action, even wince unsure and in preparation. Knee-jerk reaction to ready for her attack.

But she could be as menacing as a butterfly with what little effort she takes in assault.

"What?" I ask, left, artificial leg up on the bed and right one down on the ground, sitting with my book. I close it and stare at her closed fist as she moves it slightly closer and opens it to reveal a soft, clean pearl.

"I'm leaving with the team," She says sternly, lips tight together, "Will you take this?"

The sound in her voice is wounded and when I move my gaze from her hand, to look into her eyes, I see the hurt and fear.

I stand up, tossing the book back on the bed, and tower over her.

Her arm bends back to her body, unsure of what I'm going to do, unsure of who I am, and she closes her fist to protect the tiny gem in it.

I surprise even myself when I reach both of my large hands up and swallow her entire fist and wrist in them.

She moves to pull back but I can't stop it when I lean down and press my lips to hers.

It's what I want to do, it's really the only thing I can do. It's the only thing, I think, at this moment, that is worth doing at all.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Option P - Preview<strong>

"Don't apologize, Katniss," I say, moving my hand from her shoulder to cover her own, warming it and nuzzling it close, "You could've taken as long as you wanted. It's your choice. And I would've waited."

"I want to be ready for something serious," She whispers softly, talking slow to say what she's trying to right, "But I don't know how ready I am for what... For this."

"And what's 'this'?"

"Sex?" She guesses, "Is that what you want?"

I pull my head from her chest and look at her, "I'm ready for whatever you want, Katniss. This is fine. Just this, it's fine. It's more than I need. As long as I have you, I'm a happy man."

Her grin spreads over her face and she nods, "I already figured that. But I don't know if that's what I want anymore."

"What do you mean?" I ask, staring at her face.

"Things have changed," Katniss says slowly, "With the war happening, and the possibility of no more Hunger Games. I think it's changing a lot of rules, a lot of things I think of personally."

"Like what?"

"Children," She suggests, running her small hand down my jaw line, "I didn't want them before, because of the games. But... Well, I don't know anymore. I was practically Prim's mother for a while. I think I did alright."

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><p><strong>Interview Scene - Preview<strong>

"Mind if I cut in?" She asks.

"Not at all," I say, about to give Prim to her when she grabs my arm.

"Not Prim," she says, staring into my eyes, "I want to dance with you, Peeta."

My stomach plummets but Prim's already gone far enough away that it's impossible to call her back.

Katniss smiles and is about to put my hand on her waist when I do it myself.

I can't stop from pulling her close and getting into the usual dance position we take up when we are at Capitol gatherings.

My right hand gripping tight on her waist and my left lazily wrapped around her lower back.

Her smiles widens as she puts her own hand over my heart and her other atop my shoulder. I'm use to her fingers softly brushing through the back of my hair, grabbing the back of my neck, but it would be odd for her to do it now.

"You want to dance with the person that hates you the most?" I ask, trying to continue the facade I've been playing with.

"Oh, don't give me that, Peeta Mellark," she says, her eyebrows up and innocent, "You care enough about me to have been happy to see me when you saved me. And I know more. But I'm not convinced for a moment that you hate me. Not anymore."

I stare at her as she takes the hand from her waist, pulls it up and smells my palm.

"You were baking bread?" She asks suspiciously.

I nod and watch as she smiles, presses the hand to her cheek and grins.

"And I know that you kissed me, when I was under morphling."

The color, I think, has completely drained from my face when she looks up at me again.

"What were your motives in putting me with Gale?" She asks curiously, raising on sharp brow, "I don't quite understand why you want me to be with him so badly."

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><p><strong>Site Extra - Preview<strong>

"Well, it's almost like you didn't choke out Katniss."

It stuns me to think that Gale could say such callous words to Peeta after the shear effort he's been putting in, sitting here with us.

I've seen the struggle, the barely control he's having. It's hard for him to keep it together.

And Gale has to be so cold to him.

Everyone around us is looking now, and our small, but loud, group at the table, has become significantly less chipper.

Johanna, though, is immediately at Peeta's side, defending him just like she has in the arena before, "That's a thing to say. After what him and I have been through, and he's still in hardcore recovery. You'd think you were right along side us, screaming your guts out, starving, and pissing in the corners of the cells we were in."

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I hope that I'll be back into the swing of things REAL soon. Option A is done, just needs rereading and editing/extending that I don't have time for and Option P is like 3 out of 6 pages written. Sorry I've had no time. I hope things settle soon! I love you all, thank you fer the support and concern. Have a good night, and review? Iuno.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	31. Chapter 8 OPTA: Closer

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

On my Mage, on WoW, I made a guild called 'Faster Than Neutralites', thanks to you all... It wasn't 'Faster Then Neutralites'. Ty all!

Okay, onto the omega AN.

I am so sorry that this took so long to come out, my sincere apologies, I feel awful fer making you all wait. T_T I'm so sorry! I promise, promise, promise, that this won't happen again. Gosh I feel so bad.

Things have just been so hectic, and I know that's not a good enough excuse, especially to keep using OVER AND OVER again, but I can't help it. There's so much to do. I will try to keep things coming out in a quicker pace, but it's going to be a bit before things get BACK to normal.

Again, I'm sorry! This chapter isn't even nearly eventful enough to make up fer the wait, it's just really emotionally conveying. Also, once this chapter is up, which is.. Now, I'll get started on the site Option P, so expect that tonight as well.

And please, if you haven't already, go back to Option D, Chapter 7, and read the ending note. Ty.

What else? Uh, so how about that Dexter? Insane last night? Yeah, I thought so too. O.O It seriously shocked the hell out of me.

I'm not sure if I have anything else to say, sorry again fer the wait! Read on and enjoy, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and I'll see you again soon!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

EmmaN'Ms: "I always answer, and I would never ridicule, no matter how ridiculous. I'm glad yer liking Option D, it's been being plotted fer some time now."

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I get all my bad habits watching you, it's true.

Well, I wish that things were so different,

Change it myself, it's what I'll do.

But, I can't figure it out, yet,

Just how to make it perfect for you.

But, I'm closer than I was yesterday.

Yeah, I'm closer than I was yesterday.

They say that life is for learning.

Well, teach to me to live,

While I'm here.

Messages twisted and turning.

What should I give?

Make it clear.

Don't you know, there's no difference?

I'm not the same.

I'm only here to be with you.

And now I'm closing the distance,

Dropping the claim.

Trading the past, for something new.

Something new.

'Cause I can't figure it out, yet.

No and I can't figure it out, yet.

No, I can't figure it out, yet,

Just how to make it perfect for you.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Closer<strong>

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><p>My hands ball into fists, shaking violently, and then I try to hold it back, forcing them to relax until I'm gritting my teeth.<p>

Gale,_ the dumb ass_, watches me with an open mouth before finally closing it and straightening his back, "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

I glare into his empty, hollow eyes, his thin eyebrows and sharp features. He could be some ugly, misshapen eagle, if I tried to imagine it hard enough.

"What's that?" I hiss between my teeth, finally relaxing back again.

"You," he says, vague and dumb.

"You'll have," I take in a sharp breath, tasting blood from the strain of my teeth, "to be a little more specific. What about me?"

Johanna answers instead though, honest, and with a few more brain cells than _Seam Boy_, "That they've replaced you with the evil-mutt version of yourself."

Her answer doesn't bother me. I can't argue that I 'feel fine', that I'm 'right', that I haven't been _tampered with_.

Gale and Katniss finally get up and leave.

Once Katniss is gone, I, _we_, can breathe easier and start to settle back down.

Delly, however, face red, slaps me on the shoulder and turns to me, "How can you do that to her? Peeta! What did I say to you before? It's not her fault."

"It doesn't matter if it's her fault or not," I defend myself, "She shouldn't be such a bitch."

Delly pales and starts yelling at me, "Peeta Mellark, I can't believe what you just said. How can you think that way after everything you two have done for each other? She risked her life for you, and you've been so ungrateful."

"I've been ungrateful?"

"I don't see how the Capitol can change you so drastically, Peeta," Her voice is getting higher, "You need to get yourself together, you need to apologize and forgive her and move on. I can't believe you, Peeta."

"She's a mutt, Delly," I justify, "What do you expect?"

_**No, no... **_"She's not a mutt," I fight against the anger, "You're right, Delly. I'm sorry. I... I should apologize to her."

Delly nods and starts to get up.

"**No**," I shout, standing up and staring down at her, "I **shouldn't **forgive her. Not after what she did to me, she's a stinking, dirty, lying little mutt."

"She's not a mutt," I try to rationalize as the guards grab my arms, "She's just Katniss. And now I've hurt her feelings."

Delly starts to follow after me, "Peeta?"

"She's a mutt! She can't be trusted. There's... She..." _**I...**_

_**What the hell is she?**_

I don't even know what she is anymore. I don't know who I can believe, or if I can even believe myself.

* * *

><p>Days pass slowly after the scene I made in the lunch area.<p>

I don't even bother to ask to sit by them now. I just sit at a distance and keep to myself. I don't really talk to anyone at all.

I think it's best if I stay quiet, if I keep to myself.

And seeing Katniss, with her new _boyfriend_, is overwhelmingly testing my control, but I'm trying to move on from her, trying to fast her from my mind. It's painful, even terrifying, but it's what I have to do.

_If I ever want to be a normal person again, it's what I have to do._

And whether it's me or her that is wrong, I'm not going to let her in again. _**I can't trust a mutt.**_

* * *

><p>The doctor checks my eyes and then helps me from the table.<p>

"Everything looks fine, are you sure you want to do this?" He asks, genuinely concerned for my health.

I shrug, "I have to. I'm wasting away in here. And Coin thinks I'm ready for it."

"You've never even met Coin," The doctor says, "She isn't a doctor, she couldn't possibly know what's right and wrong for you."

"I know," I agree, "But she's right. And the propos need me to convince Snow that I'm alright too, right? It'll be good if they see me doing things."

"It might not be that good for your mind, though," He says, patting my back, "If you feel uneasy, or in any way concerned, you don't hesitate to come right back here, Peeta."

"I won't sir," I say, smiling wide, as he leads me out of the door.

Someone passes quickly by it and I stop in shock so that they don't run me over in their haste.

"Hey–" I stop as I watch the swishing of her braid and the clacking of her bow against her back.

Katniss is rushing away in her hunting gear, nearly dragging her bag behind.

If she's just walking down the hall, or rushing from the entrance of my room, I can't tell the difference. But the action itself confuses me. And also, it reminds me of something I feel like I've almost forgotten.

_I'm grabbing up my backpack, and I'm out the door with a piece of toast in my mouth as the slender girl walks by._

_"Hey, sorry," I back up onto the store's welcome mat, "oh." I stop, it's Katniss Everdeen. And I almost plowed right into her._

_My face flushes over, but she's gone already around the corner, not looking back, probably not even noticing me. Katniss Everdeen. And I'm out of it from there. The walk to school is slow, and I __**think of only her**__._

The fondness of a memory long ignored is reignited in the pit of my stomach, and I feel really guilty.

I wish a lot of this hadn't happened. I honestly feel like our ignorance has been taken away.

_I want that back. _I want the morning excitement, sketching her on that worn-out printing paper, blushing in the hallway, fantasizing about kissing her, or talking to her.

_What would it have been like... if it hadn't been like this?_

_How long would it have taken me to finally tell her how I feel? Would I have really talked to her after the reaping, if we both hadn't been reaped that year?_

Living in the fantasy of the idea takes away some of the pain, some of the anger.

I imagine waiting for the next day of school, to talk to her for the first time, with the odd little butterflies in my stomach.

_Katniss would be standing in her usual spot after school, flipping her bangs out of her face and then she'd realize that I was looking, like she normally does, and her eyes would meet mine._

_**Now or never, **__I'd tell myself._

_The reflex wouldn't be easy to stop, even though I've been fighting it back for ages. I'd smile at her, straighten my back, and begin to walking to her._

_The recognition would be immediate in her eyes and I would be unable to look away as they widen._

_I walk all of the way up to her and stop, merely a foot from her._

"_Katniss," I say softly._

_Her face flushes just slightly and she looks around, "Yes?"_

"_I'm umm, I'm Peeta–"_

"_Mellark," She says, and my heart stops, "I know."_

_She knows my name, because of course she'd know it, she's been watching me as well, she knows things about me that would surprise me, like they have._

_Katniss smiles nervously and stares up at me, "I know who you are, you work at the Bakery."_

"_I do," I say numbly._

"_My sister likes the cakes."_

_My stomach flips and I nod, feeling nervous tears well up but I blink them away, "Yeah, she does. I mean, yeah... I make them."_

_Katniss tilts her head, "You make them?"_

"_The designs," I explain further, "On the cakes, I paint them."_

"_Oh," Katniss nods in understanding, "They're beautiful."_

_Ah, beautiful. She thinks my cakes are beautiful._

"_Do you need something?"_

"_I.." I start and stop, she raises a brow, "Can I walk you home today?"_

_Her eyes widen even more, which seemed impossible before, "Umm... Why?"_

Because she still really wouldn't know me, I can't imagine if she'd actually let me in. Katniss's motives are hard to understand now. But I like to think that the mutt side of her would never be visible to me.

I'd never know.

And she could just keep us going on with me still thinking that she was perfectly human, I'd almost be alright with that, almost.

* * *

><p>The group I settle in with during our beginner training is mostly consistent of amateurs, so I try to keep my energy aimed towards listening, holding the gun and reassembling it, and staring forward.<p>

The area's large enough for there to be some unfortunates in the area that might set me off, so I avoid looking this way and that way.

Training with a group of others is sort of comforting, sort of testing, to see that I can keep calm with people around that are holding weapons.

I'm not sure how much time passes, how many days, I'm sure it's a few weeks before I get my second visit with Katniss. And this one is both a surprise and a fear of mine.

I'm not forewarned she's coming, and the doctor is nowhere in sight when she walks into the room.

I, myself, am sitting on the bed reading a book, no handcuffs, no restraints of any kind to stop me from flipping. But the moment I see who it is, I'm struggling not to hurt her.

_She's got nothing in her hands,_ I reassure myself on the inside, _if she attacks me I can easily take her down on my own. _But she doesn't attack me and her eyes do very little straying from my own. Instead, she walks across the room and offers her closed fist to me.

I'm startled by the action, even wince in unsureness and preparation. Knee-jerk reaction to ready for her attack.

But she could be as menacing as a butterfly with what little effort she takes in assault.

"What?" I ask, left, artificial leg up on the bed and right one down on the ground, sitting with my book. I close it and stare at her fist as she moves it slightly closer and opens it to reveal a soft, clean pearl.

"I'm leaving with the team," She says sternly, lips tight together, "Will you take this?"

The sound in her voice is wounded and when I move my gaze from her hand, to look into her eyes, I see the hurt and fear.

I stand up, tossing the book back on the bed, and tower over her.

Her arm bends back to her body, unsure of what I'm going to do, unsure of who I am, and she closes her fist to protect the tiny gem in it.

I surprise even myself when I reach both of my large hands up and swallow her entire fist and wrist in them.

She moves to pull back but I can't stop it when I lean down and press my lips to hers.

It's what I want to do, it's really the only thing I can do._ It's the only thing, _I think, _at this moment, that is worth doing at all._

Her body stiffens, fist in my hands and then she's struggling to move closer, trying to lift herself into the kiss. She's working against my arms, so I take my right and cup her jaw, holding her right fist in my left hand, and drawing her into my embrace.

Her lips are warm, parting as she breathes into my mouth, and then she's wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me down lower so that our noses press each other's cheeks.

My heart hammers in my chest. I'm afraid, concerned, worried. I have to struggle to hold onto the things about her that I want to celebrate.

_She may have lied to me, may have hurt me, but she made me happy._

And... and even if it was true, I have to enjoy what parts of her I can. There's nothing I can change. Despite the pain and loss for a girl that I loved, I have to give her the part of me that still loves her.

_I've given her everything I have. If she throws it away... then that's that. There's nothing I can do to stop her. _And I don't think I want to.

My fingers mess in her hair, thumb gently stroking her jaw line and I kiss her with every ounce of love I have, eyes opening to stare at hers, to enjoy the expression on her face.

I watch her eyes, shut tight, the blush on her cheeks, her eyebrows changing from sadness to want and need. You can tell everything from someone in this moment and I don't gather hate or betrayal like the videos from the arena the first time.

Here, she looks sad, but she looks like she cares.

_Maybe Delly was right. Maybe Katniss didn't love me before. But I'm pretty sure she loves me now. And I don't think even she planned for that to be the case._

I don't think she planned it to fall through when she was only worried for her life.

Katniss is moving close to me, the pearl in her fist as she opens it and presses it into my palm.

The action surprises me and I almost drop it when she breaks the kiss and turns to make a run for it.

I stop, bending my knees to catch the pearl and she's out of the door before I can stop her.

The lock sets in place and I'm left with the silence of the now empty room.

It's her leaving, making a sacrifice, leaving me here in safety that bothers me. _She can't always be the one to protect me. Sometimes it should be the other way around._

_**Or I can just kill her.**_

_**She's still a mutt, letting her go on her own will be just as fine as killing her myself. At least now the blood won't be on my hands.**_

_No, if I can stop her, I have to do what I can to.__** But I don't need to.**_

_**I don't even want to.**_

_**It doesn't matter. I'll just sit here and wait, and keep up my training. Whatever happens to her now happens. And it's completely out of my control.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

This chapter was going to escalate in a WHOLE different way. And if you want to know what I mean, look forward to the interview, where I'll have posted how this was originally going to end.

Until then, review? How about some love?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	32. Chapter 8 OPTB: Bitter Sweetness

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Yes, yes it's been a while. BUT, I am moved in!

And regular update will hopefully resume soon. But I have some awful news.

It's not really RELATED to this fic. But, in may LAST week at the apartment... I was robbed. Yeah, not kidding.

I came home and the cops were there and a lot of my things WEREN'T.

They took nearly everything left that was important. Both of my external hard drives, a lot of stuff. But meh, that's life, right? I'm not so pissed about it now, it's done and over, whining won't fix it. XP

Just thought I'd let you guys know.

I wanted to get this out fast, so I'm not going to blab on anymore, or respond to anonymous reviews. I just want to get this out and the next Option should be out REALLY soon, if all goes to plan.

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Stripped and polished, I am new, I am fresh.

I am feeling so ambitious, you and me, flesh to flesh.

Cause every breath that you will take,

When you are sitting next to me,

Will bring life into my deepest hopes,

What's your fantasy?

Cause I was born to tell you I love you.

And I am torn to do what I have to,

To make you mine.

Stay with me tonight.

And I'm tired of being all alone,

And this solitary moment,

Makes me want to come back home.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Bitter Sweetness<strong>

* * *

><p>I never imagined being dead could be so calming, once I've come to accept it. The world has opened up and accepted my passing in peace.<p>

I'm unable to see through the vast darkness surrounding me, unable to piece together the fragments of images and time. But it doesn't really bother me. What does bother me, though, is that I'm quite unsure of how to progress from here.

Panic isn't something I can really grab onto and feel, but I try hard enough at it because I know what I've left behind, if dead is what I am now.

If I'm dead, then what about Katniss? Is she dead too? Or did what little protection my body had to offer count for something, and keep her alive?

And if she isn't dead, then what will she do without me?_ How will I know? _And how can I move on?

I've often thought my death was near, and feared how it would effect others. About the only person now that would really care is Katniss. And maybe it would dig back into Haymitch's deep wounds of lost tributes. I think I matter more to him than that, though.

Maybe I would leave a big gaping wound that is unable to be filled by anything else. Peeta-shaped. And nothing fits my frame quite like my self.

But does it end here? _Does it really?_

* * *

><p>"Katniss," I hear my own voice breathe out as I struggle to pull the strings of reality back to the surface.<p>

It's not like waking from sleep. It's like rising from a bed that sits on the ground. Something is pulling me down, gravity, or something else here, but I have to leave it behind, bend it's rules, in order to rise again.

And when I open my eyes at long last, a sudden ease fills me when I see her long dark hair, her worry etched into the crease of her brow, the gentle tears brimming on the corners of eyes that are lifted from holding back a smile.

She doesn't do it first, so I do, "Katniss," I speak, repeating, and allow the painful smile to break through whatever numbness I have from coming back to life, yet again.

_How many times do I have to feel like I've died until I actually do? And what if I had not come back this time?_

She's immediately at my side, stretching her arm out to me, and I feel a sort of sudden tingle where my arm should be, like when someone touches over your clothes.

"Can you feel this?" Katniss asks, her eyes coming up to look into mine.

I take my own from hers to see what she's done, following the length of her arm coming down to my own, "Why–" and I have to stop my mouth from moving as the shining metal catches my every ounce of attention.

My mouth fills with water at the sick reality in front of me.

"In the explosion, you sort of–"

"Got blown up?" I ask as I stare down at both of my arms now, pulling them close, moving each finger as though they're my own, as though I'm in complete control, and they move perfectly. The connection point looks just as solid as my leg. My left arm extending nearly halfway down my bicep and my right just a few inches shorter.

"I thought you were dead."

"You saw me? You saw my body?" I look up to her as her tears start to spill down her cheeks.

"Yeah, it was horrible. You were on your stomach and there... there was so much blood. And your arms–"

I use my good leg to climb out of the bed as best as I can, odd, unnatural arms stretching out to pull her tightly into a hug.

"I thought I'd lost you," She sobs.

This is when I realize that the usual baby bump is not keeping our stomachs from being pressed firmly together, and the startling reality of it hits me.

I pull back, holding her at arms length and looking down at her now slim waist, "The baby–"

The control on my entire body cracks and tears start to stream down my face, staring down as if her waist would grow out again. As if I could **will **our child back into existence. But he's gone. And there's nothing I can do to fix it.

_I should've died, not our child._

My eyes shut tight on reflex when the burning becomes too much and then I bury my face against her breasts, holding her arms tightly in my clutch as I let go finally, crying the hardest I have in possibly my entire life.

I don't know when Katniss starts crying as well, but I can feel her tiny shudders and her chest heaving for air against me.

As the sobs take over and my leg begins to burn, I kneel down and take a hold of her waist, hugging her stomach tight, where our child has grown and developed over the past months, and where he isn't anymore.

I'm not sure how long it is until I begin to try and think the next step through.

With our son, or daughter, our child, lost now, it's clear that something needs to be done, and I can't just sit back and let someone else take control in this war._ It has to be me._

I have to keep Katniss and I together and as strong as ever if we're to get through this in one piece.

It's with this thought that I stand up finally, wiping the tears from my face, cleaning hers away as well and leaning down to brush our lips gently against one another. Her response is immediate, rising up on her toes to kiss deeper, but I pull away to talk.

"He, or she, was ours," I say softly, holding Katniss's shoulders still, "That'll never change. We will always love them. Do you understand?"

"I do," She whispers out.

"With that said," And I stare down into her eyes, unfaltering, as serious as ever, "I would've died completely, had I lost you as well. I'm relieved that you're safe and alive."

She nods, tears rising again. But, before she can bring them out of me too, I pull her in close again, kissing her once more.

* * *

><p>They, at long last, let me rest for a few days, just being with Katniss and trying to keep my strength increasing, doing exercises with my stomach and legs so that I don't waste, and finally I'm permitted from the ward and allowed to go to our newly assigned room.<p>

Katniss opens the door to it and the light flickers on above. These rooms are less appealing than the ones from the floors above, and they're made to conserve electricity. So the light only stays on when there's movement.

Relief that we can finally be alone together floods me as I look around the empty room, at the made bed and I turn to grab Katniss and take her up in my arms. _She should just be like this forever._

She's surprised, possibly because I've been quiet most of today, and since I woke up, but I can't stop myself from wanting to be close to her once again. It's something I miss. And this... reassembly of my body, maybe grouped with the loss of our child, has become some sort of catalyst for getting rid of my previous phenomenon of seeing things that aren't really happening.

So that now, when I press my lips to hers, and warm my hands down her sides, lift off her shirt, and watch her hair fall down her bare back, I don't see myself causing harm.

_How could I harm such a beautiful creature?_

I take off my own shirt and help her from her pants before I settle the both of us in the cold bed.

Katniss stares up at me, still in her underwear, and smiles, her small hand tracing the firm line of my jaw; body arching to reach up to mine.

"Who knew it would take losing my arms to get rid of the... Prior problems," I say, staring back into her gray eyes.

"You see me?" She asks, her eyes widening.

"I see you," I say, leaning down to her, "Happy." And then I press our lips firmly together, lowering my frame flush against hers.

Her hands claw my shoulders, legs wrapping around my waist, the heat of her center pressing against my stomach. She holds me tight like she'll refuse to let go even if she has to, but when I move down to kiss the rest of her body, she releases and allows the freedom.

The underwear discarded, I slide my hands up her thighs, gripping the muscle tight under my odd palms. And while it's not the same as my hands before, and the feeling is off, it's still causing stirring in my gut.

Katniss, as well, doesn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed or unexcited as I kiss her stomach, down the flat expanse of it, and watch the chill bumps rise to the surface.

Her gentle moan is received by every part of me when I touch my tongue to the sensitive flesh, tasting her.

My hands, arms wrapping under her thighs, grip tight at her waist to hold her in place and I can feel her own, small fingers clasping them back.

Her entire body shudders and she nearly complains when I pull away to remove my pants. The whine stops, mid-protest, and she sits up to help me. Once I'm seated though, in the center of the bed, she climbs into my lap, knees on the sheets and long hair now loose, pooling down her chest. She lowers herself onto me.

It's surprising, sudden, and my hands rest, idle, and nervous on her waist as I try to keep from losing myself just here.

Her deep gray eyes stare into mine as she moves against me, palms pressed firmly against my pecks. It isn't long, though, before she's pushing me down and leaning over me, raising her body and then lowering.

My hands travel up her waist, gripping the curve of her back and pulling her down to me.

"I love you," She breathes out, pressing her forehead to mine.

"I love you," I respond, breath being forced out through the words.

Her hands move to curl in my hair and I roll us over. She's light enough, and it's easy to position ourselves so that the weight on my arms isn't burdening. I'm still not entirely sure how strong they are just yet.

Katniss gasps in surprise, legs lifting, body arching as I thrust deep into her, grabbing her up into my arms and kissing her temple.

Our bodies shake together, sweat drips from my hairline and I press my lips to hers.

We fold against each other afterwards, exhausted, satisfied, and I can feel her slow, lazy caress on my spine.

"What do you think he would've been like?" She asks, voice finally calming.

"Hmm?" I respond sleepily, cheek resting on her chest.

"Our son."

I pull up to look her in the eyes, "Our son?"

"Yeah," She says, "What do you think he would've been like?"

"Beautiful," I lean up to kiss her, then thumb her jaw line, "But what makes you think it would've been a boy, now?"

Her grin spreads and she shrugs, "I just felt it. I was so convinced that he'd be a sweet little boy, and look just like his gorgeous father."

"Past tense," I say, laying my head back down.

"I disagree," She says, fingers moving over my back again, touching the metal of my arms, "I love it all. I think it makes you perfect."

My hands smooth against her body still, caressing everything, enjoying the odd feel of the arms, testing pressure with each finger.

Katniss watches them and then takes my hand up in hers, lacing them together. and kissing the metal, "You want to come with the group that's going in to kill Snow?"

I nod against her chest.

"We'll get him back, Peeta," She says, placing my hand on her chest, "And once this is all over, we can try to settle back down, reach some sense of normalcy."

"With my robot arms," I joke and she laughs, "It seems almost too good to be true."

"If it was," She whispers, "We'd still have our baby."

The mention of him does what it should in my mind, seeping through and reminding me that_ if there's one person out there that is still a threat, it's Snow._

* * *

><p>"It's not just about Snow."<p>

Katniss, sitting beside me, turns her head from the meeting and rests it on my shoulder.

"It's about every Peacekeeper, every foot soldier of the Capitol, every citizen. We have to take them all down," Coin, the leader of District 13, walks back and forth at the front of the room, the long curtain of her hair seems like a solid sheet of metal, not moving with the rest of her body as she paces.

"Any one of those Peacekeepers is a threat," She says, "Any one of them could kill one of us. And who's to say they won't kill the right one?"

Katniss rubs her forehead against the sleeve of my shirt, sleepy and annoyed, and I turn to touch her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

She shakes her head.

"Do you want to go back to the room?" I ask and she nods.

"Peeta Mellark," Coin says.

I look up from Katniss, to the front of the room, as everyone turns back to stare at us, "Yes ma'am?"

Coin's eyebrows narrow and she raises her hand in motion to us, "Do you have something to say?" Her voice is soft. It's an innocence that contrasts violently with her expression, everyone can't see her face, but to them she sounds_... Intrigued? _

To me, though, she sounds spiteful.

I shrug nonchalantly, "It's not important to anyone else in here, save myself."

She smirks though, weaving her web, and walks forward a few steps, "Is this meeting **boring **you?"

A few people turn back and her expression lightens considerably.

The intent she has becomes quite obvious to me at once and I pick up quick enough to play the game on a more equal ground.

"Actually, it is. My wife is feeling sick, and, quite frankly, I can find better things to do with my time than listening to you spout on about killing innocent people."

"Innocent?" She asks.

"Yeah," I respond, "**Citizens**? From what I've seen, nearly every member of the Capitol is clueless. They're like children, most of them. And you just want us to slaughter them? I understand taking the Capitol down, and that's completely important. But to what level of Genocide do you plan to reach before the war is over? How many lives are you willing to take, or destroy, so that the rest of us can bathe in the remains? We can't afford to keep killing, there aren't enough of us. And you don't understand most of the positions that the people in the Capitol have been put into by Snow. It's not their fault."

"I don't think you're looking at this from a reasonable perspective," Coin says, "After all, you're just a child."

"I lived in District 12, during all of this," I cut her off, "I saw what they did. That was my life. And you're trying to tell me that I'm thinking about it wrong? If anyone should be full of malice and want revenge, it should be me. I just lost my child, my arms, and almost my wife to them. If you can beat that with any amount of reason, I'd like to see you try."

"You're a child," She repeats.

I shrug, "What really makes a child, these days? Age? Maturity? Maybe, after everything I've been through, it's wise to start considering me as an adult. I've had to fight for my life in two Hunger Games, nearly died, and just... Just look at me," I motion to my body, "Isn't this enough? Isn't losing my child and my family enough? You keep calling me a child, referring to me as youth, inconsiderate. You act like I've had no responsibilities. What's your motive in belittling me, Coin?"

Coin makes an odd action with her hand and says: "It doesn't matter, if this meeting is **too adult, and boring**, then you can leave."

Despite wanting to retort, I do the only thing I can do, at this point, to get myself across to her. I straighten my back, stare her in the eyes and say: "It's no use arguing with you, you're running in a circle." And then Katniss and I stand together and we leave the room.

But, as we do, a pit of warning starts to whirr in my head. Red flags flash behind my eyes and I'm afraid to admit that Snow might just not be the only thing we have left to worry about. Coin's attitude and stance on this war is much different than my own. She's out to win some sort of election of chair once Snow is taken down.

And if that happens, what will become of the world then?

But how am I suppose to take care of her if I want to keep Katniss and I safe? After everything I've lost already, how worth it is it to take on Coin right in her home base?

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	33. Chapter 8 OPTC: Part of Afterglow

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option C<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I'm sorry this chapter took so long coming out. I've had a lot of problems with the new place, and the insane overtime at werk.

To just give you an idea, I go to werk at 5 in the morning, come home at 7 at night, and then have to go to sleep at EIGHT. EIGHT.

One hour to shower and chat with TristAn.

So you can see the problem here.

To make up fer the lost time at home, I'm going to install itunes and my text to speech app on my mini, so that I can actually do EDITING at werk, and that should help.

I also struggled on popping out this chapter because I was sick, DEATHLY sick. Lots of fun stuff.

And the OTHER reason will be a surprise... I had to CHANGE the ending of this chapter. Yeah. I changed it TWICE. I just couldn't make up my mind with how to get Option C right, and I think I've got the most effective plot now.

Look forward to seeing what COULD'VE HAPPENED, added into my interview when ISDP is done.

Until then, I hope you all have been enjoying the SHEAR INSANITY of Dexter lately, my gosh. And prolly blushed a lot at Glee this past week. ^_~ Btw, loved Nick as lead singing Uptown Girl, he's so suave.

And, if yer one of those, like TristAn, that got Skyrim when it came out friday, I hope you have fun glueing yer eyes to that stuff.

Hmm, am I missing anything?

Ah, yes, I'll prolly be moving to Canada within this month or early December, which means, hopefully, lots of writing/editing time. Oi, _ Too much moving.

Fortunately, moving to Canada takes one whole day and lots of waiting fer flights, which is TYPING time.

So, until next time, which will hopefully be much sooner than this one was, thank you all fer remaining loyal, please continue on with the chapter and try to enjoy it. Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Fer those who review anonymously..._

Kristiney: "Aww, thank you so much. I'm glad that so many people are satisfied with my hard werk put into this story. Option A in 3 gives a whole new perspective to the original story, that I think it needed. And yer not the first power-reader, either. It's totally flattering to think that people get caught up in this fic, warms my heart. ^^ And I totally understand about reviewing on a PS3, that stuff is PAINFUL. Thank you fer taking the time tho!"

LL: "Hehe, here it is!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

When I look into your eyes,

I can see a love restrained.

But darlin' when I hold you,

Don't you know I feel the same?

'Cause nothin' lasts forever,

And we both know hearts can change.

And it's hard to hold a candle,

In the cold November rain.

We've been through this,

Such a long long time,

Just tryin' to kill the pain.

But lovers always come,

And lovers always go,

And no one's really sure who's lettin' go today,

Walking away.

If we could take the time,

To lay it on the line,

I could rest my head,

Just knowin' that you were mine,

All mine.

So if you want to love me,

Then darlin' don't refrain.

Or I'll just end up walkin',

In the cold November rain.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Part of Afterglow<strong>

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><p>Her hands cup my cheeks as we kiss, as I brush my tongue against hers, and force the dress from her body.<p>

I help to free her arms from the long white gloves and move to put them aside when her bare hands touch the front of my shirt, moving to unbutton it. The action nearly startles me and I bring myself back around to look down in her eyes.

Gray, stormy, clouded, she blinks and looks down, slipping the shirt off finally to expose my chest and stomach, and her stare lingers, "You're..." She stops, swallowing, and moving her hands away as if to hide her own form from sight.

"Please, don't bother," I say, grabbing her crossed arms to free her chest.

Katniss lets me, despite the hesitation I can see. "I don't know how you can look at me."

"I don't know how you can be so unsure of yourself," I comment back, raising a brow. The arena and the abuse from our prep team must have really broken her out of insecurities concerning her body if this is what I'm going to have to deal with now.

"No one's ever seen me naked," She says, cheeks blushing.

Her comment makes me chuckle and I reach my palm up, caress her hip, over her rib cage, and run the pads of my fingers over her breasts. Her cheeks redden even more and she moves to stop me, hands reaching up again to grab mine.

I lean in and press my lips to hers, snatching them away again and forcing them out to the side. Her moan underneath me is excited and, instead, I feel her fingers tangle in my hair.

When I break the kiss, watch her chest heave for air, I travel my hands over the exposed form of her body while nipping up her jaw to her ear.

"It's not fair," She breathes against me, "You still have most of your clothes on."

She's right.

I grab the lobe of her ear between my teeth and she gasps in pleasure.

"Peeta."

To be fair, I move her hands downward and she picks up on my intent immediately, small fingers fumbling over my pants.

Once they're off, I pull back to kick them away and I hear the silence of her. I look at her eyes stilled on me, taking in my body. Her face flush, a bead of sweat dripping down from her hairline, tracing the curve of her cheek.

The red embarrassment of her body, heated by the room and from being under me, and I can see the silver ring glistening on her right finger.

"I've never..." She starts to say and I chuckle.

Yes, she has. But she doesn't remember any of it, any of it at all. And I intend to make this as intense, and beautiful, as the last time; as the first time.

Katniss's eyes haven't removed themselves from me, staring, unashamed, at my length.

I reach down to her bare legs and pull them towards me, sliding her along the bed until there's no space for air between our bodies and she's on her back once more.

She stares up from the sheets, back pressed against them, eyes wide.

"Do you want this?" I ask, leaning over her and reading deep into her face, fingers of my left hand brushing the side bangs away that have begun to stick to her cheek from sweat.

Katniss doesn't nod, but she says, quite firmly: "Yes, I do."

I feel the smile spreading and reach my hand down her neck, over her chest, sliding smoothly over her firm stomach, across the scar made from the bullet, and reaching underneath her panties.

She gasps in surprise when I don't bother to slow, fingers wondering deep, and her legs spread out of reaction. Her gray eyes don't remove from mine, but the lids of them lower when I tease her. Her lips part and I lean down to kiss them.

Katniss's entire body rises to me, shaking and excited, breath hitched as she moans out.

I take the movement to wrap my arm under her back and draw her against me, finger dipping inside of her and curling.

"Peeta," She says when I break the kiss, and it's exciting to see this difference in her, what she would've been like, had we gotten together on our own, and her mind hadn't been so bothered by the things that happened in our arenas.

"Please," She doesn't know what to do with herself, so I remove my fingers from her and pull the underwear off, tossing them to the side of the bed and lowering my body, legs sliding backwards until I'm level with her thighs.

Katniss, herself, seems to be struggling with whether or not she's comfortable with it.

"Peeta," She mutters, "I don't know if you should–"

But I don't let her finish the sentence.

Her body freezes, voice stilling, hands clasping down on the bed sheets as I taste her, tongue lingering over her flesh.

Katniss gasps suddenly, "Peeta," and my cock throbs, thankful.

I take my time, tongue making shapes, flicking over the sensitive nerves, hands having to hold her down as she writhes, unsure of whether to pull away or let me be.

"Please," She says, falling to pieces, her moans are nearly sobs at this point, but I'm adamant about continuing, fingers joining my tongue and her response is immediate when she lets out a particularly loud moan.

Finally, I pull from her and steady her hips as her eyes snap open to look up at me.

"Peeta," She breathes, panting, hands and legs shaking as she reaches up to touch my face.

I lower to her, kiss the perspiration from her brow and leave my lips there, "I love you, Katniss. I love you so, so much." Then I sit back to look into her eyes, slowly moving my hips to meet hers and I see them sharpen in realization, fog clearing from them and she swallows.

"I love you too," She says, gaze moving down and widening even more.

I grab her chin and force her to look into mine.

Her hands run down my back, unsure of what to do as I push slowly into her, the fingers grip my hips and she positions her legs higher, allowing me to lower my waist. She looks like she might tear up, but she doesn't, instead, her head falls back on the pillow and she lets out a slow breath, staring up at me.

"I thought that was going to be..." She struggles for the words, "More painful, I guess."

I shrug at her, lowering down to my elbows and looking deep into her eyes once more, "Nothing should be painful with me, Katniss."

The soft smile graces her lips and she says: "I feel safe with you. I can't explain it, but I have this feeling with you, that's unlike anything else. I tried to hate you, but I don't think that's possible."

"I can relate," I agree with her, pulling her up into my arms, "But I gave up on trying, if you couldn't tell."

Her smile breaks into a huge grin and she reaches up to trace my jaw with her index and middle fingers, "You're like the dandelion," She comments, closing her eyes when I move into her.

"Dandelion?" I ask and she lets out a bated breath.

"Long story," She pants as her eyes open and the stare connects again, our bodies moving together, her hand dropping to rest by her head and her legs lifting more, feet sliding down the back of my leg.

* * *

><p>The next morning I'm woken when I reach out, stretching my arm to wrap around her body and she's not there. My head rises in response. The bed, empty on Katniss's side, and I can see that her clothes... Her wedding dress, is gone. <em>And so is she.<em>

I'm convinced it was a dream until I lift my hand from the blanket to see that in my palm is something that takes me by surprise.

At first, I'm unsure, but the little white ball isn't easily confused with anything else. It's the pearl... The one I threw out in the snow.

_But how did it get here? Did she actually track back and find it?_

_Maybe the entire thing was a dream, _but how far back would it go, if it was? _Is she still caught by Snow?_

I stand, confirming that I do at least still not have my left leg, dress, and pocket the pearl. I quickly make my way down to the eating area, but once I enter, I can see that Katniss is seated at Gale's side and her arms are wrapped around his forearm, her head pressed against his neck. And the wedding band still on her finger.

Finnick makes a motion to me from their table, "Hey, Peeta, join us?"

I do, but not without the weary feeling settling in my gut.

Katniss looks over at me and smiles, "Good morning, Peeta." She says, without a hint of knowledge to what had happened last night.

"Aren't you going with the team today?" Gale asks, looking at me, as if straining a point.

"I..." I stop, trying to think over everything, and Katniss's brows raise.

"You're still going?" She looks between Gale and me, and I'm unsure who she's asking about it.

Gale nods, "Yes, I am, at least. You are too, right, Peeta?"

"Yeah," I say, watching Katniss's determination to understand both of our responses to each other.

Finnick wraps an arm around Annie when she gives him a worried expression, the look saying that she's clearly concerned for him.

Katniss watches the two and then looks at me, "You're going, but why? Haven't you done enough?"

"I have?" I ask her.

She shrugs, "Well, I owe it to you for saving me, so I'm going. And Gale hasn't really done much. But you're a leader, shouldn't you stay here?"

"What sort of leader allows his people to rush in and die while he sits behind a desk, making the orders?" I ask her, "Not me."

Katniss smiles at this, "I know you don't like me, Peeta, but you went in and got me out, and my family, and Annie. And you didn't owe a thing to us then. So why keep risking yourself when others can?"

"I'm not that kind of person, you know that, Katniss."

Gale watches us silently, sipping from his bottled water, eyes conveying a sense of warning to me, _to back off?_

"I still don't know what kind of person you **are**, exactly." Katniss is acting like last night didn't even happen, and it's bolded when she stands up, kissing Gale square on the lips, and lifts their trays, "Should we go and get ready now?"

Gale stands, giving me a cold look, and follows after, "One moment, Katniss," As she walks on, Gale turns back to me and makes a motion, "Can we talk?"

I stand up and we walk just a few steps from the table, "Do you need something?"

There's a calculated look in his eyes and he straightens his back and stares at me, "You do realize that she's married now, _right_?"

"That's pretty clear, yeah," I confirm.

Gale smiles and nods, hands in his pockets, "Good."

And then, without warning, he braces and slams his fist into the thickness of my jaw. It doesn't knock me from my feet, but I do think I'm seeing stars as I turn back to watch him make distance, joining back up with his... His wife, linking arms, and leaving the lunch room in dismay.

The chilled look he gave before he hit me is an easy understanding. Whatever happened between last night and now... _Gale isn't a fool. And Katniss is pretending that nothing occurred._

_Both of which can't be good for me._

I take my seat again and Johanna leans close and says, rather loudly, "I don't think he likes you."

* * *

><p>Suited up, ready to leave District 13, I'm interrupted mid-stride to my bedroom door when it opens suddenly and Haymitch walks in.<p>

He puts his hand up to halt me and shakes is head, "You're overdressed."

"What are you doing here?" I ask him, feeling impatient. _The hovercraft leaves soon and, if I don't make it–_

"You're not going," Haymitch says, "Boggs and I both agree that you will be a distraction to Katniss, Gale, probably the entire team. So, we want you to stay here and record some propaganda shots on your own. But we don't want you out in the field if you don't have to be."

"I have to be. Haymitch–"

"I know, Peeta," He says, voice softening finally, "I know, but I don't think that you're thinking very clearly at the moment. You're steamed up about Gale and Katniss. It's best you stay here, trust me."

"Haymitch–"

He raises his hand again, "I'm sorry, Peeta. But our minds are made up, you would just be a problem out there."

I tighten my lips together and then do the only thing that I **can **do; I nod.

Haymitch smiles reassuringly and pats my shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll be around to make sure that Katniss doesn't get herself into too much trouble. I'll watch over her, for you."

I sigh, bowing my head and nodding, "It sounds like your mind is pretty much made up."

"It is," He says sternly, "I'll keep you updated with Katniss."

"Thank you, Haymitch," but that doesn't stop it from crushing me.

"You're welcome," He takes my bag from my shoulder and sets it on the bed, "Now, unpack."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I think that's it fer Chapter 8 of C. The next chapter might make some of you a little sad, so expect that. ^^; Poor C Peeta is having a hard time.

Bet yer all excited fer D, tho.

Thank you fer reading, why don't you leave a review?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	34. Author's Note: Ugh

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>IMPORTANT NOTE<br>**

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I'm sorry guys. No, I'm not fading. No, I haven't fergotten about the fic or the options or anything. But it's really hard right now to get to werk on this fic.

I moved here in hope that it would help. But it doesn't.

Now that I live closer to my family, they've been over CONSTANTLY. It's seriously driving me insane. I can't concentrate. I can't edit or write anything while they're around all friggin day watching the tv here. I know they have one at home, they should use that one. But it's really stopping me.

And it's not just this fic. I can't werk on OS when they're here, I can't even think straight.

It's driving me up the wall, it seriously is. I don't know what to do about it, I thought coming home fer 4 days off from werk because of the holidays would help but it hasn't, they've been over here EVERY DAY.

And I'm sitting in here with my headphones on... Clearly I don't want company. They come up and try to talk to me, ugh.

I sound like such a miserable old bat or something, but seriously. I'm 23, I've been moved from my family fer 4 years. I don't need or want this.

Not only that, but werking so much overtime is nice and all but I get no time to myself. It's been a long time since the last update and the suspense of D is killing me too. I want to see what happens, I want to write it. T_T

This is not really a hiatus note, it's just here to let you all know that I haven't fergotten. This fic is on my mind ALL of the time. I'm not leaving or fading away. I want to write more. I just have idiots invading my space and eating my food... And watching stupid shows on the tv here when they have one at home.

So yeah, when werk starts up again next week... I might have more written, cuz I won't be stuck here with an annoying family. LOL.

It's really hard to concentrate when you have your father singing random songs and yer mom and sister breaking out into a fight over something that doesn't concern you... I can't even think atm. I'm so annoyed.

Alright, I'm tired of bitching.

I'm sorry fer the lack of updates, I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. Blame my stupid family.

I love you all so much, and I hope you can stick through this with me. ISDP has been a hard one coming out. But I PROMISE, as soon as things settle, as soon as I get some TIME TO MYSELF, I will put out. I'm no slacker. And it INFURIATES ME TO THINK MY FAMILY IS STOPPING THIS UP.

In the mean time, I get to sit here and plot all the Options, and try to stay sane while I jot down ideas, until I can write again.

D might come up next week. T_T I'll let you all know asap. I promise.

Love you, love you lots! See you soon, hopefully. And know that I'm tearing my hair out. XPP

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)


	35. Chapter 8 OPTD: Right Thing To Do

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

See, see what going to werk does? I get away from my family and BAM! I wrote. Gosh I need to werk more... What does this say about me?

Want to buy a solo shack out in the middle of nowhere where my family CAN'T find me. And TristAn can just cook me delicious things. I would write this all fucking day, all fucking week. _Even on the holidays_.

**So, from you guys...**

Basically, what I got from my readers... Is that ALL of you, not one excluded... Like dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and either tan or average colored skin on a person.

Is this like–Is this odd that all of you like PEETA? O.o Who's a blond, with blue eyes?

Heh.

So when you all read (REED, REID) my Trilogy, _Only Skin_, yer gonna like **Ben Rowley **a LOT, or at least KNOW him. Because he has dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and tanned skin. And he just FIT IN HERE. So I threw him into the mix.

I took a while to make this chapter as... Believable? As possible. And as _beautiful _as possible.

I'm sorry it took forever coming out, that seems to be life at the moment. But I hope I do all of your characters some justice (I think the only one here is Little Asian's, so far). And I hope you enjoy seeing them come to life in my writing.

Every single one of you should be able to pinpoint yer own characters in here, without their names being added. (Granted they'll have their names mentioned ANYWAYS)

AND, fer you ALL specifically, feel special. Because I'm going to take Ben Rowley... FROM MY BOOK, and throw him in here with yer characters, to join the onslaught of brunette/brown eyes love going on in my fans.

Mmm... William Shatner... I mean...

Yeah, the brown eyes, brown hair, tan skin... That is an ingenious set of colors there. I'm not even being sarcastic. I think it's fucking hot.

OH, and... Bold time:** If you haven't submitted a character yet, feel free to do so, YOU STILL CAN. If you want ANOTHER, that's cool too. You can also submit people from the other Districts, runaways.**

I'll take them ALL.

And welcome a new reader/reviewer to the mix! FeetofFire, looking forward to having you along fer the rest of ISDP. ^^

OH, AND... XP Uh, Dexter this week? Yeah? Yeah? Travis, wtfffff.

So, ehem, anyways.

Without further ado, please enjoy this chapter, I hope you do, and read on! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

None.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Right Thing To Do<strong>

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><p>I set down our bags in the corner of the room after Oeric leaves us to prepare the people here for company. There's an awkward silence between Katniss and I as we look around our quarters, as we inspect the walls and cabinets.<p>

_You'd think it was a real home._

_It could be as convincing as our homes in the Victor's Village. _Like we've just walked from an outside hall... Into a home.

There's a living room, with a tv, couch, counter, even a small table. There's a kitchen, where I quickly set into putting away our food supplies, and it's complete with a stove, a microwave, a refrigerator and various other things that I have yet to explore.

It's a two bedroom home, fit for a couple, or a family of three.

Katniss starts to pull off her shoes after checking the bathroom out, she sits down on the bed and begins to undress.

"I feel like someone should be living here already," She says softly, "The place looks well prepared."

I move forward, help her shoes from her feet and set them beside the bed. "They've been here for years, I can imagine how they've probably assigned people to clean the rooms. But how are they eating? Where are they growing the food?"

Katniss shrugs and stands up, "Well, the shelves are stocked–"

"There's fresh vegetables out on the counter by the sink," I mention, "Maybe they prepared some of the rooms for people running from the districts."

Katniss nods, helping herself out of her clothes. Her swelling stomach is more than obvious when she raises her arms to pull off her shirt.

I reach forward, help to free her braid and allow my hands to graze her shoulders, thumbs pulling the straps of her bra down and then reaching around to snap the clasp.

"I don't know what to think right now," Katniss says, resting her head on my chest, hands reaching up to take away her bra.

"I know," I agree, "It's a lot to take in."

I feel her breath against my right peck before she begins helping me from my button-up.

Together, we strip clean of our clothes and move into the bathroom, locking the door behind us. She's already turned on the shower to heat up and I guide her under the steady stream of warm water, her freed hair soaking down.

"I love you," I tell her, holding her body close to mine, feeling her large stomach pressing to my waist, "That's all I need to know."

Katniss smiles weakly, leaning up to accept my kiss.

* * *

><p>We've showered and dressed, and I take Katniss's hand before we leave the bedroom part of the place.<p>

Once we enter the living room, however, we're surprised to see Oeric sitting on the couch, waiting for us. His arms are crossed over his chest and he smiles wide.

"You two hungry?"

I nod and Katniss responds with a soft: "Yes."

Oeric stands up, "We don't all normally eat together, but when we get new people, it's hard not to. Otherwise, though, for lunch and breakfast, dinner and snacks, you just eat in here. You two both eat meat, right?"

Katniss raises a brow, "Yeah, is that not normal?"

Oeric grins ear to ear, "It's normal to eat meat, but some of the people that have come in... don't."

It's an odd thought, the second he says it, and it never occurred to me that anyone wouldn't eat meat, but I shrug and go along with it.

"Where is your food grown?" I ask suspiciously.

Oeric leads us from our room, locking it behind us, "They'll explain it later, but it's like these labs underground where they have soil and stuff, it's all very scientific, I'm sure that you'll learn most of everything when you meet the board, that's how it normally goes. Until then, just enjoy yourselves."

Everything I see after he says this makes what I imagined inside of my mind pale in comparison. The sight we get when we reach the end of the hall, and he opens the entrance doors to let us out, literally takes my breath away.

Katniss gasps before going completely silent, and I probably don't do any better than her, honestly.

The first thing I take note of is that the floor beneath us has changed, and it's unlike any sort of stone or metal, rock, or cement. It feels soft under the soles of my shoes, almost like clay. Whatever it is, has been carved down into. Wide circles, lines connecting, making the floor itself look like a large canvas.

Large rounded pillars reach up to the ceiling, dark and black, and unknown, also having the carving in them done artistically, carefully placed down to match the floor below them.

I don't know what I was expecting, I can't even _imagine _it now. Maybe something less... **Advanced**. Maybe something almost prehistoric. But this could make Panem sweat in comparison. _This would buckle Snow's knees._

The vast levels of walkway, not ladders, or steps, or something trivial. There are large bridges that stretch above us to reach other floors, elevators that are see through and land with a soft cushion of air, sounding like someone's taken a breath.

Another thing that surprises me is the amount of greenery and water on display. Plants I've never seen before, lining the short walls, trees planted in the center of the ground with a circle of grass and flowers to keep them company amongst the vast stretch of this soft cemented floor. Both seem to compliment one another.

And just in front of me, after the walk ends, and the ground dips down into... What I can only guess are levels below me, there pours a gentle stream of water from another floor above us. Just a line of water falling, ending out below.

The people that walk around are wearing blue sort of soft suits that I can only guess are comfortable. Uniform, sort of, with long tight arms and form fitting before the pants, which are loose and end with log boots.

One thing stands out most about them though. All with a soft shade of browned hair, skin tanned just slightly, eyes that watch us are also brown. They could all be twins if you went by just that. And even the women seem to have short cut hair. None of them pass without looking at us, smiling, and greeting.

There are others around that don't wear the uniform though, which makes me think that the ones that are, are some sort of group, society of people, or militia.

Katniss's hand in mine grips tight once to catch my attention and I look down to her.

"Yes?"

She stares up at me, wide eyes amazed, soft smile playing with her lips.

"What do you think?" Oeric asks finally.

"It's beautiful," I answer, as honest as possible, "They're gonna be disappointed when they see the world above, though, this is a spoil."

"Maybe," Oeric laughs, "You say that, of course, but imagine having never seen the sky."

The thought terrifies me.

_When sunset is my favorite color. _And, though this underworld is captivating, lush, healthy even,_ it's missing the sun and the sky._

Once I've thought it inside my head though, something startles me to realize–

"What keeps everything illuminated, if we're underground?" I ask nervously, interrupting my own train of thought.

Oeric moves forward and motions for us to follow him. He turns to face us and then points above.

I join him, turning around and looking up.

Against the wall, bright enough to glow, soft around the edges, buried against the sidewall of the floor above us, is a long band of light. Almost sunlight, bright, and warm.

"It's what tans the people," Oeric mentions offhandedly, "If you haven't wondered how everyone has relatively darker skin, and been underground for years, it's not genetic. They made it a while back, took them a while, but when they turned it into a goal, they achieved it," He explains, "The board will say all of this, of course. But I figured it'd be a treat, for now. And it's kind of hard to hide. It's also startling if someone doesn't warn you first."

"It's amazing," Katniss says in surprise, "It's just like the sun."

"That's exactly what it is," A voice from behind us says.

We turn back, taking our eyes from the light and it's a moment of waiting for the adjustment to normal after staring into the bright white and yellow.

"Kurgan," Oeric says, grinning wide and stretching out his hand in greeting.

The two shake and 'Kurgan', an average looking man with the same dark eyes, dark hair, and tanned skin as others, smiles wide; his eyes nearly closing as he does so, "Two new people?"

"Not just _any _people," Oeric begins to explain, "Both of these, I think you've heard about."

The man before us raises a hand and holds it out to me, "No need for introductions, of course. Long brown braid, traditional, Katniss Everdeen and her famous Mockingjay pin; the girl on fire. And sandy blond hair, tall, strong. Peeta Mellark, artist and baker. I believe you were 'lucky' to have been drawn into the first games, right?" He says, glancing at us both.

His sharp knowledge, and vast array of it cause my stomach to flip nervously. And I'm unsure if I should take it as sarcasm, warning, or just curiosity on his part.

I receive his grip and the shake is gentle, patient, almost as welcoming as his eyes. The intelligence in them nearly startles me, and gone is the feeling of someone trying to attack, to harm, like Snow or Coin. This is a feeling I should've had when I first landed in District 13. _Hope, potential, possibilities_.

His smile nearly doubles while he stares back at me, his thin frame straight as a board and he bows his head, "It's nice to finally meet you both." Our hands part and he takes Katniss's, "I've heard so much about the two of you. So much."

Oeric is beaming at us, nearly as blinding as the band of light, hands on his waist as he watches the interaction.

Katniss stares up at Kurgan and finally asks: "How do you know so much about Peeta? Me, that wouldn't be so much of a surprise, but Peeta?"

"I've probably heard more about your... _Husband_?" He asks and I nod, "Than most would expect, honestly. A friend of yours, Madge, has told me things, and there's a good few others we've taken in that have talked about the trips into the games, where Peeta Mellark professed his love, put his life on the line to prove it, lost his leg, and nearly died countless times just to save you."

Oeric looks surprised suddenly, "Lost his leg?"

Kurgan nods, "I'd like to see that."

Katniss raises a brow, and I agree with her suspicion. Though he's kind, I decide to question, just in case, "From what I've heard, not many of you would know about me," I say, looking at Oeric beside us, "Why do you know so much, and your people don't? And Katniss's father? He didn't seem to know much either."

Kurgan's smile does drop, but he puts a hand on my shoulder and motions us to walk with him, and as we do, he begins to explain things.

"I remember the first time I heard your name," He says, calm voice as he brings us around the left side of the bridge and opening before us, "**Peeta Mellark**. That's what I'd heard a woman say, she'd come from District 5, if you believe it. You were the only name she would mention besides Katniss, of course," And he looks back at my wife, "I already knew her. But when she mentioned you were in the games with Katniss Everdeen... Well, that caught my attention."

_Attention?_

"The girl in question," He continues, "Had arrived to us nearly two months after your first games. And I make it my main priority to know everything I can about the outside, as much as I feel I should learn, as much as anyone else that comes from there. And the first thing that really got to me about you, was how kind they would say you were. Charming, gentle, but strong and smart. You fought for your love, and you succeeded, **twice**. I knew games only left one alive, of course, but the thought that you had made it through with her, for her, that caught me." Kurgan motions to himself, "You're a person of movement, and that's more powerful than you can even begin to imagine, Peeta. But it's dangerous, too."

"So you want to use me as a weapon?" I guess,_ just like everyone else. That's disappointing._

"Oh," Kurgan looks at me with surprise, "No. No, I don't touch weapons. I don't manipulate or speculate about anything. I don't leave that to chance. But I have an idea I've been crafting around; hobby-like. And, if I could suggest it to you, I think you'll agree. If I know you so well, that is."

"You've never met me."

He smiles, "No, I haven't, unfortunate, I know. But I also know how much your wife matters to you, and that child, judging on your actions and past experience. And I want to help the world above. We just need _you_, that's all."

I stop walking, startling him a little, and then I stare into his eyes, directly in, to get as much of the truth from them as possible, "What exactly are you after here, Kurgan?"

To his credit, his face, expression, eyes, and smile don't even falter, not for a moment. He just blushes a bit instead, "It's nothing bad, Peeta. We're not the enemy. Not at all. We just want your voice to help convince the rest of the board–"

"You couldn't do that already on your own?" I challenge, "Who's in charge here?"

"I am."

Another voice, yet another voice to startle everyone, but we should've seen him coming because he's just walking from in front of us, not bothering to hide. A similar man joins the group standing here out on the walkway.

He's tall, broad shouldered with a pronounced jaw and sharp teeth, intimidating. The scars littering his body, pale against the rest of his skin, don't help to make ease of his presence, one in particular below his right temple must've been a mortal wound when it happened. But he's just my height, so I don't have to look up to him. His dark brown eyes are as equally gentle and harmless as Kurgan's. They could be brothers, easily.

"Kurgan," He says, putting his hand on the other man's shoulder, "This wasn't necessary, not at all. You should've just taken them to breakfast."

"I didn't want the board to approach him all at once," Kurgan begins to excuse himself, "That's too much for him to take on alone. Twenty-five people asking him to do this, I wanted to give him some sort of heads up, at least. Who knows if I'd have gotten a second chance."

The other man nods slowly, not looking stern in the least, "Neither of us have been properly introduced," He says, eyes wondering to Katniss's stomach, "Kurgan Naisa, here, is my second in command. And I'm Ben Rowley. None of us are entirely in charge of Adler, but I would be the person you came to if you had a serious problem; like talking to my board, scheduling a meeting of sorts, trying to convince us to go upland, that kind of thing."

_Second in command. Ben, Kurgan, Adler._

"Adler?" I ask.

"Surely the underground has a name," Ben says, joking and inviting, "Adler was the company, people couldn't seem to get past their history. So we named it that. I guess it fit at the time, though times have _changed_."

I watch Kurgan, the expression of reverence and respect he's giving Ben. It's not a look of malice, or has any sign of flaw to it from what I can detect._ He actually is fine with being second._

"So the board leads together?" I ask, turning to Ben finally.

This is a man of weight. He's not stone cold or dark, not even threatening. But I can tell, just by the way he carries himself, that the spot he's gotten wasn't because of politics or deceit. _He's like me. Just like me, maybe._

"Yes," He says, motioning for us to take seats outside, and I expect him to stand over us, but he sits right down beside Katniss and I, and smiles out to the waterfall.

This is when I notice that there are no people wondering around anymore.

_Not a single one._

Ben starts on before I can ask though, "Our board is brought together to represent as many different mind sets as we can. Kurgan is the sort of military training, hands on of our group. I'm public relations, communication. We have others that are either more technical, habitual, ritual, physical, creative, they have their own fields, and they're the best. We've added on Oeric Everdeen to represent the outside as much as we can, and one other, Madge, for 12 specifically."

This is the second mentioning of her, and it comforts me to know that Madge is still alive.

"We also have three of our board of different ages, an older, more wizened of our... Less practiced. A young woman, and a child of fifteen years old," Ben says softly, staring at the waterfall still and then finally looking at me directly, "They're exchanged every year, the civilians. And their predecessors are gotten back to as much as possible. It's a well-established community of people keeping their eyes out for the betterment of each other."

"It sounds like you've got it figured out," I supply, almost sarcastically.

"People aren't machines," Ben defends himself, seeing where I'm coming from, and he stands up, "They're messy, they get sick, they get sad, they fall in love. The community changes, everyone goes through hard and easy times, both on their own and together. The ones put in charge need to be just as human as they are. We try to keep it that way, keep it personal. People are very personal, Peeta. And so are we."

Kurgan almost looks willing to disagree, shaking his head, but Ben knowingly reaches back to him and rests his hand on the other man's shoulder, "It's not like that."

"Then what's it like?" I question, "I'm sorry to ask, but I'm–"

"Looking for a flaw?" Ben smiles and shakes his head, "Every human has flaws, many, many, many flaws. An overwhelmingly, unimaginable, varied amount of flaws, trust me when I tell you that I know that. We have flaws, our board does, our choices do. We're human, what do you expect?"

And I honestly couldn't give an answer to that._ He's right. The guy's thought of everything._

Kurgan shrugs Ben's hand from his shoulder, "I disagree, but we both agree to that," He supplies to me finally, allowing out his own opinion, "To me, things are form, things should be structured. But that's why I am where I am, that's why I stand for military, not public relations. I don't communicate properly."

"And surprisingly, you're in a relationship, and I'm not," Ben jokes, and I see the brotherhood between them, the comfort they take each other with, humor, friendship, belonging.

They're open with us, but I'm curious if that extends to the public I've seen already.

I'm curious to find out if they announce things, if they treat the people like 'people'._ Do they allow opinion from more than just their board?_

"Are you two brothers?" Katniss finally asks, smiling sheepishly.

Ben and Kurgan look at each other before they both shake their heads.

"Alright," I give in, "You've got me curious. I'll meet the board, I'll see them, but I'm not making any promises, is that understood?"

Ben smiles wide again and takes my hand, "It's your choice, Peeta. You can stay here as a civilian, you can leave if you want, you can join the board, if offered. We're not binding you. We're not a jail."

_Unlike District 13._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Sorry it took a little longer, but I plan to make it up. Of course, everyone's original characters WILL be making an appearance. And soon. I've got it all planned out pretty much from here on out.

Just wait fer it, and until then... You can tell me what you think. I'm not kidding, I love reviews. And I'd love to hear from you... And you, and you too. I love you guys. It's been quiet.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	36. Chapter 9 OPTA: Memories

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Something I've been wanting to share with my readers, and if you've been around fer a while you'll know what I'm talking about.

A while back, WHILE BACK, I think in TBBA, I mentioned that my BOOK/Trilogy, Only Skin, that it had been sort of... 56 pages long, was erased from existence. All of my hard werk on the first three chapters... Gone.

That has turned into a blessing by now, of course.

I pretty much SCRAPPED that version when I turned Calvin (The main character) from a sixteen year old in high school to a twenty year old in college.

When I did that, it changed the ENTIRE story. Like, **seriously**. So losing that draft of the book was actually sort of... enlightening.

It also made me keep around fifteen copies of the same fucking story now. But that's besides the point.

Fer those that read D, you've met Ben Rowley. Who is sort of character 3 from Only Skin. If you like him, if you think you could sympathize with the guy, let me know. He's pretty dear to me.

But I just wanted to share that with everyone, some kind of... Light in the darkness or some sappy shit like that.

Thank you all fer remaining PATIENT.

Fer readers of** Option P, it's not up yet, **it's written, but I have to remake all of the graphics fer the bars and stuff on the site, because I was robbed lol. And those graphics don't exist. But it shouldn't be too hard, just gonna take a bit of time.

_**P will most likely be up with Option B.**_

Thank you all fer waiting and being patient, and so understanding, I could've never asked fer better readers. I love you guys.

Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Tasmia Kabir: "I will finish all of the options, of course. I wouldn't leave readers hanging, you have my werd. It just takes a bit of time now that life is getting in the way more and more. I'm so glad you like my version of the story and that you were awesome enough to take time and review. Totally warmed up my heart fer this winter. ^^ Welcome to the fan group! I love all of you! I'm also really glad that you like C, not many people are into it, I think. But I love it. ^^ It's cool that you live in Queens, New York. Ever find a watch repair there called Gray & Sons? Totally win. blocks out email addresses, I suppose you could go around it by just removing the at symbol and the dotcom or something. So I deleted yer second post because it was still edited out, hope you don't mind. Thank you, and I hope you stick around, updates are a coming!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I see my vision burn, I feel my memories fade with time,

But I'm too young to worry.

These streets we traveled on will undergo our same lost past.

I found you here, now please just stay for a while.

I can move on with you around.

I hand you my mortal life, but will it be forever?

Seize the day, or die regretting the time you lost.

It's empty and cold without you here, too many people to ache over.

Trials in life, questions of us existing here,

Don't wanna die alone without you here.

Please tell me what we have is real.

So what if I never hold you, or kiss your lips again?

So I never want to leave you,

And the memories of us to see.

I beg: "Don't leave me."

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><p><strong>Chapter 9 - Memories<br>**

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><p>I'm stopped in the middle of my lunch when one of the militia of 13 comes up and hands me a slip of paper.<p>

"Suit up," He says sternly.

The notice he's given me is a summons, and I pull it close to read that I'm being put into Katniss's team, they've lost one, and they need a quick replacement.

"Are you sure this is... Logical?" I ask, looking up at the man.

"They're Coin's orders," He states plainly, "It's obligation, not choice."

Coin has _obligated _me to join the team on the ground; with Katniss. I can't argue it, so I stand up with my tray and follow after the militiaman.

He leads me out into the hallway, through passages, until I walk into the combat locker room to get dressed.

It's little work and finally I'm stepping up into the train, being dropped onto field level, and the first thing my eyes meet _**is little Katniss Everdeen**_.

She looks startled, surprised even.

But Boggs doesn't hesitate to move forward and snatch the gun off of my shoulder before I can do anything else.

I wouldn't harm her_, that's not my job. _I've already agreed to let what happens happen, but her eyes watch me as I lower my fists to my sides, "I wasn't going to do anything," I say, dropping my voice, "I'm still human, after all."

Boggs leaves us then, making some distance, before contacting Coin.

Katniss stares still, gun in her hand,_ nervously awaiting some sort of attack on my part, I guess._

"You could shoot me," I offer, "That might make you feel better. It wouldn't do much for me, but I seem to remember that you need little comforts."

"Shut up," Gale says automatically; from Katniss's side. His hand gently touches her gun's point down now that she's raised it to me. He almost looks like he disagrees with her shooting me; _almost_.

"I wouldn't mind," I continue, "It's not the first time you've wanted to hurt me, Katniss."

She winces at her name, shakes her head, and looks away as Boggs comes back, almost stomping towards us in his annoyance.

"I want two people on him at all times," He says, motioning to me, "Katniss, would you come with me?"

Just like that, she's gone with him, and two of the group join my side as flank.

Gale smirks victoriously and crosses his arms.

I look at him and shrug, "I wasn't going to do anything, anyways. All this does is keep me warm."

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><p>Late into the night, I'm sitting by a tree as Finnick shows me, or rather, reminds me of how to tie a knot. I've gotten it into an almost muscled reflex, twisting the rope between my fingers while everyone goes to sleep around me.<p>

It's Finnick's words though, that are what lingers with me into the night, not the rope knots.

He's reminded me to try and sympathize with her, to understand.

"_You've had it tough," he explained as he showed me the steps in the rope, "I know it's hard, Peeta. But it's really hard for both of you. Katniss is being stubborn, but she's normally like that. She gave up on you, but you shouldn't give up on her. You really loved her. Maybe if you try to sympathize with her, even if it's pretend, it could open her back up."_

"_I try all of the time with Annie. I love her, even though some times it's hard to get through to her, I know that deep inside she wants me to try, and that she loves me as well. Katniss isn't being fair, but someone has to make a move or you'll both continue to be miserable."_

He's pretty convincing; Finnick Odair.

Katniss sits silently, eyes trained on me, until I decide to finally speak up and listen to Finnick's advice.

"These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you," I say softly, "Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth."

It's a bittersweet beginning despite my best efforts to remain optimistic.

Katniss sighs, almost in annoyance, but humors me; thankfully. "I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were with the Careers. After that, I started... Well, I started developing feelings. But I never hated you."

"You make it sound like something real," I speak before I can stop myself, "I can't even seem to work through _that _much. I can't really ever figure out what's been real between you and I. Some of it feels real, but other things–Other things seem fabricated."

Finnick's voice from nearby nearly startles me when he says: "All you have to do is ask, Peeta. That's what Annie does."

"Ask who?" I question him, "And ask what? Where do I begin? I don't know who's answers I could even trust."

"You could ask us," One of the team says, one I haven't gotten the name of yet, "We're your squad, after all."

"More like my body guards," I supply.

Finnick chuckles.

The other woman, however, answers earnestly, "We're that too. But you saved a lot of lives in Thirteen. It's not the kind of thing we forget."

When the silence follows, I find myself struggling on the smallest thing to ask, something simple. Something that would be just dumb to lie about.

"Your favorite color is green," I say and then ask unsurely, "Right?"

Katniss smiles weakly, looking at me, "That's right. And yours is orange." This surprises me though,_ orange? That's and awful color. Orange,_ "Not bright orange," She says at the doubt on my face, "But soft. Like the sunset."

And at once I can see it, in my mind, very clearly. The colors of orange spreading through the sky, clashing with the blue.

"Oh," I feel the breath come from between my lips as warmth fills me in realization, it's overwhelmingly simple, but comforting. "Thank you."

Katniss stares at me with wide eyes then and says in a rush of words: "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open and you prefer the left side. You never take sugar in your tea, but your lips don't curl because it's bitter. You roll up the sleeves of your dress shirts to your elbows and you always double-knot your shoelaces. You hate it in the Capitol, but only because they change my eyebrows. You lick your lips when your nervous and you're always feeding Buttercup when my back is turned, even though you know that I know you're doing it, and I don't like it."

Once she's finished talking though, rising more questions in my head, she turns and darts into her tent without saying anything more or waiting for my reaction. Silence reigns in once again without a 'Katniss' to fill it, and I sit there, thinking over what she's shared.

The things she's mentioned aren't something you'd notice from just _anyone_. They rather sound like something you'd notice about a close, dear friend,_ or a lover_. _The left side of the bed? No sugar in my tea?_

I tighten the knot in my fist and the silence stretches on until Gale says something.

"You were going to join her at the drop of a hat," He says, motioning to me, "You were going to run away. And, even though you know how much she cares about me, and she's struggled a lot between us, you've never been jealous of me in the slightest."

_I've never been jealous? Why would I be? __**She's a mutt.**_

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><p>The next morning, I wake up, join the group in eating breakfast and 'Jackson', as I've learned her name is, the woman from the night before, stretches out an arm to share the meat; passing me a packet of salt.<p>

"How did you sleep?" She asks calmly.

"Acceptable," I joke and the rest of the group nod in agreement.

Boggs smiles and watches me while I taste test the meat, adding a dash of salt over it for a sense of flavor.

"Baking and painting," I start, trying to make sense of the thoughts still wandering around in my head, "Those are obvious, I can see them clearly. But the rest of what she said, was it all true?"

Some of them shrug and smile, but Boggs answers: "Well, a lot of it we don't know, but the rolled up sleeves part, I can agree with that one. In all of your interviews with the Capitol, and Snow, they were. It seems odd that she'd just mention small things like that. Aren't you more concerned about other things?"

"The small things help."

Jackson scoops up a spoonful of some odd sort of sauce and drips it over her food, "You can ask us anything. If we can, we'll try to answer our best."

I nod slowly, thinking it over, "I don't even know where to start."

One of the other men, Castor, shrugs, "Try something relative, that we all might know, or be able to answer, that's as good a starting point as any."

"Like the war," Boggs suggests, "We're all sort of a part of that."

A few of them chuckle and I roll my shoulders in thought.

"Alright," I say, thinking harder, "Well, I don't know if I really knew much about the war; before it happened, I don't think. Is that real?"

Boggs chuckles with a few of the others and nods, "That's real, sure. Both you and Katniss were kept out of it for the most part. Haymitch kept nearly everything out of your minds, he figured you had enough to worry about, without a world war. Not until it was necessary, at least."

"The fire in twelve, was that real?"

Again, Boggs nods.

I stop and think it over, remembering the images, the wording or something, someone... Someone telling me that there was the fire, and that twelve was no more.

I'm not sure how much time passes when I finally ask more questions.

"Most of the people there died from the fire, real?"

"That's real," He answers, watching me close, "Less than nine hundred of the people from twelve made it to Thirteen alive."

"It doesn't seem right," I say slowly, trying to work through the blurred images of before, the image of a camera, the script in my hands, my feet supporting my weight, one pressing in my toes, the other in my hip.

"I feel like I warned District 13 about something... About–"

"The bombing," Castor answers, but Pollux shoves him in the shoulder and makes an odd action with his hand, "Sorry," he apologizes.

But what he's said has put in motion a few memories for me.

Darius, holding out his oozing hand of blood and bone and tissue and me trying to console him.

_I'm saying things to comfort him, "Are you listening?"_

_I am._

_I'm listening._

And then there's this... this startling image of Snow saying things, of fear, of Katniss begging on a screen, the churning in my stomach and the sweat in my palms. Then there's blood on my tongue, I can almost taste it,_ it's so real_.

"I did, I did warn Thirteen, about... '_Dead by morning_'." I can feel the impact of the punch and the blood being grinded between my teeth, the gasp of pain and glaring up into the eyes of a snake. So clear, clearer than any real memory I've had for some time.

"_The only thing I regret is not killing you when I had the chance in there!"_

The snake,_ Snow._

"Is that real?" I ask numbly.

Boggs nods, "That's very real. You warned us, and at first we weren't going to listen. But Katniss and Haymitch vouched for you, made us at least start a drill to prepare for the bombing."

"_Run, Katniss!" I'm screaming at the camera, struggling against the soldiers, and the one in front of me grabs my collar and slams his fist hard into my jaw. I fall back, nearly knocked senseless into the arms that are pulling me down. Blood spills from my mouth before they grab me off of the stage._

The memory is clear, so clear against the background ones, everything is so sharp, taste and smell, fear, pain.

"I was beaten," I say, touching the corner of my jaw, feeling the hit over and over again, "Was that real? There's no way it can't have been real."

"It was, from what we know," Jackson says softly, "We saw your blood on the screen, when you warned us and they hit you."

"Was it my fault?"

"Was what your fault?" Boggs asks, raising a brow, "Being beaten?"

"The bombing," I answer back, still feeling the pain of the punch and a new sort of panic settling in for the long haul.

Boggs shakes his head, "No, that wasn't your fault. It was ours, it was our cutting into their feed, and Snow, not you, Peeta."

I try to allow his words to sink in, but something else trickles in as an after thought, "Something was my fault, I'm sure. Was the fire in Twelve, was that my fault?"

"No," Boggs says sternly, staring at me, "President Snow destroyed Twelve the way he did Thirteen, to send a message to the rebels."

"Don't blame it on yourself," Cressida says, watching us all in silence, "You don't have to keep looking for something that was your fault."

"I just feel like–"

"I know something that's your fault," Katniss says from a distance, just earshot from us and we turn to her.

"What?" I ask.

"Katniss," Jackson says, warning her.

Katniss shakes her head, "No, no. But I do know something that is really his fault," She takes a seat nearby and smiles at me, laying down her game, "You're the reason I'm alive. You stuck your neck out for me in the games, both times."

Everything goes silent as I think over the new information, as I filter through the conversations, I remember the sunset orange and double-knotted shoelaces, over and over again as I tie them each and every day before going to school, before baking or painting. As I try to paint on canvases and walk from the Victor's Village.

"Something you said," I start finally, after a long moment in my thoughts, "Last night, Katniss, you said I'd rolled up my sleeves. Was that... Because of Portia?"

Katniss nods nervously, "That's right," She says softly, "Portia always would roll your sleeves up."

I rush over memories of her. _Portia. _Hugging her and accidentally calling her my mother, of her folding my sleeves up numerous times. And I can remember doing the same afterwards.

"So, that's real," I tack that thought down correctly, "But she's dead, isn't she? Her and the prep team, right?"

"Right," Katniss confirms.

Gale, giving me a cold look, adds: "_Just after you were saved, actually_."

Everyone looks at his dead-pan and they stare in silence.

I shrug and put a healthy amount of the salted meat into my mouth, chewing through the thoughts. _That's fine, he can be bitter._

_But I'm glad I know a few things, if I get enough of it sorted out, maybe I can be back to normal soon._

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	37. Chapter 9 OPTB: Peaceful Moments

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Every time it seems like I try to promise a quicker update and it still takes just as long. I seriously wish this stuff would even itself out some time soon.

So, I apologize.

A few things before I end the a/n. We are up on chapter 9, but I'm not sure how long ISDP is going to be. XP So if you want to start submitting questions fer the ending interview, feel free to start now.

Also, I'll prolly be going up to Canada mid-January now, TristAn's decided it's best we wait a little while, and I agree completely. Trying to get ready this month, I had no time. As you all can see. I had no time to write either.

I haven't had time to do anything fer a while.

I could've sworn I had more to say, I think about it later, right now I rly just want to get this chapter out in the world fer you guys to enjoy. ^^; I fought to put it out yesterday morning but TristAn wouldn't shut up about salads.

But umm, Dexter fans, we got one more episode. Things are coming to a head and it's kinda terrifying. One of the best seasons this far, imo.

And the Gleeks out there, we're done fer 2011, kinda sad. But the Xmas episode was awesome.

I normally hate snowy music and songs, bah-humbug, but Let it Snow was awesome. E ^^

Also, TristAn and I have started watching both Battlestar Galactica, the 2004 one, and American Horror Story; which is a confusing, but interesting show. XP

OH SHIT, yeah, and did you guys see the new Hunger Games poster! Omg. And hear that EPIC score? I sure did, it's on my ipod. Go check them both out, they're epic. I'm sure I linked them in my twitter; which is KaKaVegeGurl, of course.

Alright, alright, go read. XP And ENJOY! Thank you all fer being awesome and reviewing, and reading, and staying around. Thank you all fer being so completely understanding. Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love... (I kinda got a LOT of these recently. _ I don't even know WHAT to do with the ones of TBBA and PWPP. XP)_

Chrissy: "Yet another power-reader, gosh I love you guys fer being so dedicated to reading this story, it's awesome. If only I could do that these days. XP. I don't blame you fer sticking with A first, a good chunk of people seem to do that. It's insane to think some ppl read all of them. XP I'm glad you like it tho, most people also really enjoy B, I think, I'm not sure at this point all of the options are so different. But it's nice to know that you've enjoyed the first two options you've read. And now, here's chapter 9, how about that? ^^"

JJ: "Omg, I love epic rants. Yer reviews were so much fun to read. Don't stop, by any means. I'ma try to respond to it all in order. And using yer correction of it being A and C, instead of A and D. First of all, I read these reviews when you first sent them in, I just never had time to get the chapter out. XP But I've been wanting to respond all week. You mean that C Peeta is in pain and gets hurt, and you don't like that she's never worried about him. You have interesting things coming yer way, JJ, I promise. ^^ You seriously almost call it. Lol. And I've always hated Gale too, seriously, guy needs to die in a fire. You will get to see MUCH Prim and Peeta and Katniss's mother soon, as well as KATNISS'S MOTHER'S NAME! I had to make it, of course, but I'm TIRED of trying to avoid her name, wtf SuCo. Give yer characters some names."

"A prolly won't be much different than canon, honestly, it's that way fer a reason. I wanted a version of the story that would stay fairly similar, if you want one that's different, but like A, there's always Option P on my website. But I do like yer suggestions about people's reactions; Katniss's reactions. And there will be MUCH of that after the war, I promise you, and prolly more since you requested it in particular. ^^ The books really did just glance at it, SuCo took a very EASY escape on that part and it's very disappointing. I would never do that. What Peeta went through was very serious and traumatic, and you'll get to see a lot of that happening. In Option C, the part where he talks to Katniss about what it was like without his leg, almost losing balance, I wrote that part in because I REALLY wanted to have more depth with it, losing a leg is kinda a serious thing. Hell, losing a pinky finger is serious, but a whole leg? And they NEVER talk about it in the books, like ever... Just... _Peeta's running slow_. How insensitive. My story will have a much more in depth ending that will hopefully satisfy everyone. ^^; I want to give people insight into how these two REALLY got together, how hard it would be fer them to struggle with the loss. I'm glad that you went off and ranted, it's nice to see what others think, I'm the only one around me irl that even knows about HG, so the readers really let me in on their thoughts, feel free to rant more, it's welcome! And I agree with everything, about Katniss just ignoring it, I don't think any of that was done right, the whole third book was really off.

"Feel free to be demanding, too, I want to know what you have to say. And I think it's funny that you read ISDP first, you must've seen a dramatic change in writing since the beginning chapters of TBBA. XP"

"I got pretty quickly that the anon was from you, yer writing style was familiar enough, grouped with what you were saying. Yer not the first to say that my options are better than the book, /blush. I never have any clue how to respond to that without sounding conceded, egotistical, modest, or rude. So I'll just skip over it, but thank you none the less. XP And killing off Prim was really unnecessary, poor Katniss, having to go through everything in her life just to have it mean nothing, literally, nothing. Peeta was the only one that gave it werth after that. The line you say is really ironic, not the quote, but when you said 'The world is harsh enough, I read books to get away from it all and have a happy ending that most people can't have in real life', that's got SOMETHING to do with the PROLOGUE of my trilogy that I'm writing. ^^ So maybe, one day, you'll read that and be like 'ooo'."

"I really think SuCo had her mind in a completely different place when she wrote the last book, it was so messed up, almost like a bad fanfic, XP. I just felt like everything was off about it, right from the get-go. But uh, I've written too much as well now, thank you much fer the awesomely long, epic reviews! I loved reading them and I hope fer more in the future, welcome to the group and C is up next, shouldn't be too long, I have like the next 3 chapters of C already written. _ Thank you, thank you, thank you, I can't say it enough! Lots of loving! Enjoy!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I really need to talk with you.

I keep stepping on the vein that keeps my lifeline flowing thru.

I wanna be your perfect stick of glue.

But I don't feel perfect at all, sad and insecure, flawed.

I find it hard to hold conversations.

I get sweaty sick and I wanna walk away.

No, it's not you, it's strictly me, in this situation.

But, I'm wondering: Will it ever go away.

Just go away, still.

Sometimes, I feel like weeping,

Awake and when I'm sleeping.

Perfecting how to put a game face on.

This puzzle I've been keeping,

Has been in hiding, creeping out the closet door,

Spilling out onto the floor.

How long will I be picking up pieces?

How long will I be picking up my heart?

Listen, I'll be as honest as I feel.

I feel like I'm getting more paranoid,

Cause I'm hearing things and they never turn out real.

It feels like my heart is made of pure steel,

It's just so heavy all the time.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - Peaceful Moments<strong>

* * *

><p>Katniss, fading out on my chest, lightly traces her fingers over the scars from the explosion. Her eyes have been closed for a while, and she's nearly out, nearly asleep.<p>

My heart rate is back down, breathing normal, and I run my own hand over her arm, keeping it warm.

_I haven't felt this calm in so long._

I haven't felt so much peace since those times after the first games, laying with her in the bed of her old home, cradling her need, holding back my own.

Now that things have returned to some sense of normal, I can enjoy these moments with her, enjoy the quiet calm, suffer the terrifying comfort. Because it's only so long before something jeopardizes us once again.

Coin still hasn't went away, and I have to do something about her. Also, my arms, the very ones connected to me, are going to be expected to perform in some** great way **during this war, I'm sure.

_Soon, the people will collect their debt, and I have to be ready for whatever it is that they ask._

_Katniss shouldn't be tethered to someone that has such an impending death. _But, if I think about it, it's nearly impossible to think that she isn't in the same state.

_No matter how hard I've tried, she's still in danger._

And it's not right to separate us from each other, not even for a moment. _We should enjoy the time we have left together._

"You're thinking really loudly," Katniss mutters.

"Sorry," I say, smile gracing my face, "Did it wake you up?"

"I was never asleep," She says, lifting her head to look at me, "What are you thinking about, Peeta?"

"You."

"What about me?"

I roll us over so that I'm on top of her now, laying my head on her chest, the warmth of it surprised by my actions, "Just that I love you, and that I will do everything I can to protect you."

Katniss laughs softly, fingers pushing the bangs from my face, "You were thinking about Coin, right?"

"Yeah," I admit, pulling my eyes from hers in shame.

"Don't give me that look," She says, grabbing my chin and forcing me to meet her stare, "Or... Take it from me. I'm your wife, you should never feel ashamed of trying to protect me, Peeta. **I sure don't**."

"I shouldn't have to constantly be thinking about taking someone's life."

Katniss frowns, fingers lightly feathering over the slight stubble on my jaw, "You need to shave."

"It's weird without my arms."

"I can do it," She says, smiling and kissing my lips softly, "If you don't mind."

Her eagerness makes me chuckle and I nod, "Alright."

"That doesn't bother you, does it?"

I can see the expression change to concern as she waits for me, as she worries over me, she doesn't know where my mind is with this, still; so I put her at ease again._ If she needs it, anytime, I'll willingly jump to help let her know how simple things are in my mind._

"I could have lost both of my legs and arms," I whisper, running the odd arm down her back and gripping her close, "I could just be all torso and brain, and I know that you'd still be lying here, with me."

Her eyes glass over with tears as she listens.

"You'd be by my side, I know that. And that's all that ever matters in my life. I don't care what parts of my body I have, as long as I have your heart."

She gets up then, staring at me, tears brimming in her eyes as she sits in my lap and leans down to kiss me. Her hair falls loose and hides the light of the room away.

"You've always had it," She says, voice wavering as she cries and I sit up to pull her close, to kiss her again, to press my palm against her chest and feel the beating of her heart trembling through the nightshirt.

* * *

><p>In the morning, as she's shaving me, her eyes trained as she works, she brings up something from the night before.<p>

"In this world," She says softly, the sound just reaching my ears, "There's more danger, and more violence, than ever before."

I look forward as she talks.

"People put children in games, and find entertainment in watching them be slaughtered by each other," Katniss pulls back to clean the blade, "It's harsh. And you and I were the victims too," She comes in the get the other side.

As much as I want to respond, I don't, but I keep eye contact.

Katniss shaves smoothly over the right side of my face, "We've both been through very horrible things. And at this point, neither of us is going to risk the chance of going through it again. You've never done anything wrong, Peeta. You've just protected us. And as long as we're here, we have to make sure that it doesn't go beyond that. It hasn't yet, so why question it? Aren't your morals the same?"

She turns to clean the blade, so I respond, "Not anymore. Things have changed the way I think more than I'd have liked them to."

"That's life," Katniss says, smiling and taking the washcloth to my face to clean up, "They may have changed a few things, but I doubt you're going to try and hurt a single person that doesn't deserve it. You're better than that, Peeta."

The cloth moves from my face and I lean down to press my lips to hers, wrapping my arms around her waist and drawing her body flush to me.

Her hands tangle in my hair, mouth opening to breathe into mine, legs spreading as I lift her from the ground, as I take her from the bathroom and spread her out on the bed.

* * *

><p>The doctor staring at the sheets of scans from my tests causes the nervous wrenching in my stomach to become overwhelming. He's serious, and he's also not talking. The purse, sternness of his lips is the kind that my mother use to get when she was upset at me.<p>

"Everything checks out," He finally says, to my surprise, "Your body seems to be accepting the change quite well, how do they feel?"

"They're fine," I lift my arm and flex it, "They're strong."

"They are," The doctor agrees, "But you're not using them to their full extent. Don't be afraid to wear on them. They are far more capable than you know. I want you to go into the gym, later tonight, after everyone leaves. Can you do that?"

"Of course," I quickly agree, standing up from the bed and pulling my shirt on, "What do you want me to do?"

He watches me, rests a hand on my forearm and nods slowly, obviously thinking something to himself, "Well, you still have your own arms strength in your shoulders, do you know what you could lift before? Easily, of course."

"One-twenty, one-fifty?" I guess, shrugging.

"Try one hundred, and go up from there," The doctor says, smiling wide, "Don't go any higher than you feel comfortable with, but the arms can handle at least three hundred. Don't try it. That's only in special situations. You don't want to test them if you don't have to, understand?"

"Yes sir."

"And throw a few punches too, you haven't been in the gym enough, alright?"

"Alright," I agree and he releases me.

I'm quick to exit, but stop when I pass a bed and see that Johanna is laying in it. She catches my attention, just by the state she's been, but it's also been a while since I've talked to her.

Considering what we both have been through together, I should've before, but I haven't.

She's awake, and obviously upset about something, but she seems to be silently angry instead of lashing out like I'd expect from her. Her hands are in fists and she's not making eye contact with me, for once.

I walk up to the foot of the bed and rest my hands on the short railing, "Nice to see a familiar face."

"Fuck you too," Johanna says, still not looking at me.

I take the remark in passing and offer a joke to settle the air between us, "I think we both have had enough of that, wouldn't you agree?"

A smile graces her face for a moment, but she nods.

"What are you in here for?"

She shrugs, not in a talking state, but I take the seat by her side and watch her monitors.

"Come on now," I decide to joke again, to ease her more, "I know we've lost a lot, but I'm pretty positive you didn't lose your personality. You're still crazy, right?"

"Complete with nuts and volts," She responds and finally turns to look at me, "Do you want something, _lover boy_?"

I have to share the grin she causes at the open comment, and also dig at our past, before steeling her with seriousness, "I heard you washed out in your test, do you want to talk about it?"

Johanna rolls her eyes, "Do I look like I want to talk about it?"

"Maybe."

"I don't need anyone to sit by my bedside and hold my hand," She says stubbornly, "Aren't you limited to sympathy for Katniss?"

"That's not fair. I have to sympathize with others sometimes, not just Katniss. Honestly, though, the only reason I'm talking to you is because you and her grew close."

Johanna, not falling into the joke, starts to turn away.

"So you have a morphling problem," I engage, trying to stop her from shutting me out, "I have robot arms, doesn't that mean we make some sort of culture?"

Despite being bitter, Johanna bursts into laughter so hard that I have to take a moment to let her gather herself. I even managed to bring tears to her eyes.

"Really, though," I say as she calms back down, "I'm glad to see you're alright. It's not just Katniss that I want to look out for. You saved her life, don't forget that I'm biased with that. And, even if you hadn't, I'd still care."

"You're so uplifting, Peeta. Well, not really. You actually look pathetic. Robot arms, scars all over, left leg gone. You're like some makeshift doll."

"Sad to look at?" I ask and she nods, "That's alright, you're not the best thing my eyes have seen either."

She chuckles, pulling the pillow from under her head and throwing it my way.

I reach up and catch it, but when I hand it back, I think of an interesting opportunity, "Do they bother you?"

"What?" She asks, "Your freakish arms?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

"They don't," Johanna shrugs and gets her neck comfortable again, "I couldn't care less, just don't tell me how interesting it makes your sex life."

I raise my brow, "Katniss might have some sort of fetish–"

"You can stop there, Peeta. I mean it."

"I have to go to the gym later, if you want," I offer, "You can come work out with me. If you're not intimidated by my 'freakish' arms."

Johanna grins and nods, crossing her's, "Alright. I do want to see those babies in action."

I stand up from the seat and settle it back against the wall, "I'll be by there around eight, okay?"

"Yeah, you do that," She pauses for a moment before asking: "Have you fingered her yet?"

I'm in mid-step from the foot of her bed and have to stop and turn around to look at her before I realize what she's asked.

Instead of commenting on my expression though, she just raises a brow in question.

* * *

><p>"You're spacing."<p>

I blink and look across the fire, at Katniss, and smile, "Sorry."

She nods, eating the last bites of her food as I try to start mine off, "What are you thinking about?"

My face heats against the warmth of the crackling fire, and I smirk at her, "I'm thinking about shaving."

Her expression changes and I can tell that she's immediately understanding._ It wasn't every moment that she'd shave my jaw that we would end up folded in each other's arms, no, not at all. _She takes a large gulp of her water and then climbs across our bags, sitting down next to me and laying her head against my shoulder.

"I wouldn't mind that."

Finnick watches us silently from the other side of the fire, sending knowing glances my way, and then finally surprises us both with such an honest, open comment. "I'm really upset you two lost your baby."

Katniss's lips shut and she turns to him.

He doesn't seem bothered by the attention, so he continues: "Now that Annie is pregnant, well... I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I'm sorry for the both of you."

I nod at his words, but I can't imagine what else to say.

"Thank you, Finnick," Katniss voices over my thoughts, smiling and leaning close to me, "It's hard, but let's hope you never have to deal with it either. Babies, they take time."

"I know," Finnick tries to smile, but it looks more painful than not, "Having you two as parents, no kid would be more lucky. You were just waiting for it, and then the explosion happened. I didn't even know how to bring it up, or talk about it, you both seemed so sad and I didn't want to be another person to ask or mention anything. I know you two lost a lot, more than anyone else, I think."

"We didn't lose each other. That's what matters."

Katniss looks up at me and smiles, "That doesn't mean it won't hurt for a long time," She turns to Finnick and says jokingly, "But it's not like we can't make another."

He grins and sips from the small metal cup he's been holding in his palms, "Right."

"What about your child, Finnick?" I ask curiously, "What do you think it will be?"

"A boy," He answers instantly, honestly.

Katniss chuckles softly, "Of course you do."

I can imagine Finnick being a father, rather easily. It's nice to see him and Annie settling together and trying to make a life after everything they've been through. Hopefully Katniss and I can take a page from their book.

Maybe in time, we all can have moved on from the tragedies of the games.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Oh gosh, it took ferever to get this chapter out, at last, SUCCESS. ^^ Feel free to review!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	38. Chapter 9 OPTC: Trying to Move

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Tried my hardest to get this one out there as early as possible.

D will also be coming up before the holidays finish this year. And then I think I'm going to call hiatus until the first of January.

I just wanted to give the four of them a good resting spot before all hell breaks lose in them. You know it's going to happen.

A, B, and P are obviously about to have Peeta flip out, right? And after this chapter, you can tell that something bad is going to happen, and it will.

Also, once you read D, you'll have that same thing. All four options are about to break into action.

The Chapter 9's were obviously calms before the storms. So get ready fer it in January.

Alright, I have a long review to get to responding, so enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

JJ: "Omg, long review, /love.

First: Aww, thank you, I hope that it sort of conveys through my writing some?

Second: I'm werking on a Trilogy atm, yes, it's called Only Skin, and yes, it sounds like a porn, but when you put it by the names of the other two books, it makes complete sense. It was posted up on fictionpress fer a while, but I took it down fer multiple reasons. If you've read D, a character from the book has started starring in that Option.

Third: It's exhausting going from things like Harry Potter, Dresden Files, Pendragon, and Uglies, where they name EVERY character, to Hunger Games and like... No one has names, the most important characters don't have names but we know people like Pollux, Darius, and Lavinia? I'm sorry, but no. No, no, no. That's not how you do it. I personally think that the names are going to be easier to avoid in the movie, they normally skip details like that, we should already know. Just watch the Harry Potter movies. Lol.

I was really upset that there were things SuCo just avoided completely, or brushed over like they were nothing, I would never do that. If I've forgotten anything, or if there's something more you'd like to see, just ask. When I do the end-of-story interview, I always ask fer people to request bonus scenes, that **does **happen. I like the things that you've already asked about and mentioned, none of it will be forgotten. And yes, I am writing a book, as I've said before. There's been quotes from it posted on my twitter, but I've been known to give the readers sneak peaks from time to time.

I'm glad you haven't seen a big change, I haven't really went back and read the whole thing together, tho I definitely will once it's finished. It'll be nice to see the end product together. But I'm glad that TBBA doesn't seem lacking now that ISDP is out. I have a lot of readers that fluff my ego, and that's pretty even right now considering all of the horrible things happening on this end, it's nice to know that I'm appreciated by someone besides my fiancé. XP I just don't want to get full of myself, there's always room fer improvement and any fluff I get normally gets used in a strong writing mood. XP I just use the reviews to fuel it. The readers might not know it, but I pay close attention to how they write things TO me, how they end their messages and stuff, they're all very precious to me. And I don't think it was rude at all, sometimes I have people sign completely anon, never come back, but they say awesome things, and I feel like they'll never know that I appreciate it. Taking the time out to write ANYTHING to me is loved, and whether it's anon or not, I love it most. ^^ You signing in would be quicker to get back to you, but if yer willing to wait and see my response in the next chapter, that's fine by me. I just get REALLY eager to respond, lol.

I felt so odd reading the third book, it started weird, it ended weird, and everything in between was just rly, rly weird. 1 was probably my fave, just because everything was still so mysterious, and I loved the way the innocence of both characters was portrayed. Peeta wasn't so on guard and Katniss didn't understand how he felt fer her, let alone her own feelings. And yeah, she was paranoid, but it reminds me of like... the first time a kitten sees a turtle, you know? They totally don't know what to do with themselves. I did hate that she KEPT saying 'Ima just pretend', it's like, okay, we get it, yer playing with his feelings. Stop now? And I think this was the biggest review by far, I LOVED it. Omg.

Yes, I have a website. Www . KaKaVegeGurl . Com It's pretty simple and self-explanatory, I suppose. All of the author's notes hold something to be seen in them, but I'm pretty sure people don't even look at them. Some of them have spoilers, or content even. But no one really knows they exist, that's okay, I have fun writing them.

Thanks fer being awesome and giving me a long review to enjoy and respond to! /love."

Olivia: "Thank you fer stopping by, I'm really glad you like my werk, and I'm sorry there are so many options, but they started by request and it's just kept going. You don't have to read them all, it's not intended that way, I think it's best to just stick with one, honestly. But a lot of my readers enjoy them all."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

It's not the end of the world.

It's not even over, but it will be soon.

I never learned my lesson, I just changed my tune.

And no one seems to notice,

But you will, you will.

You can try and you won't find it where you're looking.

You can hold it till it's putty in your hands.

And you can't break a heart that wasn't even yours to break.

You could never be there for me in the end.

And I will do the right thing.

I will, I will, I will.

Coming clean,

Means never closing curtains,

I just change my scene.

Oh, but you know what I mean and I will learn throughout my life,

To never lean on what will bend.

It's been time to let you go a thousand times.

You'll never know,

How it hurts to be the one that you'd regret.

I have to say that I am proud to know you,

And I'll never be the same because we met.

You might not miss this,

But I will.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - Trying to Move<strong>

* * *

><p>"There were times during the games, both of them, that I thought Katniss and I were never going to survive. It doesn't take a genius to realize that the situations were hopeless, even with the most positive perspective."<p>

The camera is concentrated on me and the crew standing around are silent, staring in surprise, waiting patiently.

"I even feel like, sometimes, I'd given up completely, allowed the doubt in," I say, conveying the emotions through my voice and face as much as possible, "Sometimes things just felt so heavy, so impossible. It was hard imagining anything happening afterwards, that there would even **be **an afterwards for us."

_I wish Katniss could hear this._

"It feels like that now," I manage out, trying to ignore my thoughts, "It feels a lot like that for me. It feels like we've waited for this moment all of our lives. And even though our districts have been very separate and unknown to each other, unaware, we've all had our downs, our pains and fears. We've all starved and suffered the tragedy and victimizations together."

_I really wish she could hear me now, maybe she'd actually know __**who I am.**_

"Each and every one of us has felt that insecurity, I'm sure. Each of us has felt out of control of our own lives. I can't name anyone that hasn't lost a family member, a friend, son or daughter. But we've all been through that together. And even though it stirs up a lot of hate and malice, resentment to each other, we have to understand exactly what the enemy is, and what it isn't."

"It's not the next district over. It's not the people of Panem, I promise you that," I say, keeping my sweated palms closed tight in my lap as I sit, staring forward, "I've met a good amount of them, seen their reactions enough to know that they aren't to blame. They're victims as well, and they don't even know it. Because without us here afterwards, to help them and teach them, they wouldn't survive like we have. They're innocent children, they've been spoon fed, but that doesn't mean that they've hurt us on purpose. They just didn't know any better."

"The real enemy isn't even President Snow, as much as I wish it was," I allow the smile, allow the humor and irony of it, "The only one that can really be blamed for any of this is long gone. It's just humanity that has kept the wound open, and been unable to close it up."

A lot of the camera crew has had their attention completely stuck on me, but just a few of them begin to look saddened, "We can't keep hurting each other. I think we've all seen enough of that the past seventy-five years. But justice does remain to be seen, someone has to pay some sort of price for our loss, and it wouldn't be fair just letting people go without trial. And if I have anything to do with it, Snow will be one of the recipients. There's a good few others that come to mind, ones that aren't the victim, but are power-hungry and controlling. They'll understand how wrong they were, soon enough. If I have anything to say about it, I promise you all."

I change my eyes to focus on Cressida and allow her a moment to ask the next question.

"Do you have any words for Snow?"

"Just this," I say, giving my exact, sharp attention, leaving the softening look behind, "You might think that you're going to get out of this, Snow, but you're not. I only hope that you understand that what you've been doing has been wrong. Killing you without that recognition won't be worth half as much satisfaction as I wish it would."

The recording ends and the camera crew rushes forward to congratulate me.

And while I've given a ground-breaking, in-depth, detailed speech, it's nothing to what I could be doing out in the field.

Annie walks up to me, her palm placed on her stomach, and takes my arm to free me from the people.

"How was I?"

She smiles, putting her ear to my bicep, "The same, but you always look sad when you talk about the war."

"It's hard not to," I say, waving off the camera crew, "It's nearly impossible to pretend being happy. That's one of the few things I haven't mastered yet."

Annie nods, "I know, but I don't know if you're talking about the right things."

I raise my brow, "Should I be talking about something else?"

"Well, you can't talk about Katniss," Annie gives me a knowing look, and even though she's shy, even though she's always so nervous and odd to people, I get the distinct feeling that Annie, herself, isn't as foolish as most think she is.

Even she knows what's really underneath it all.

"You'd just make yourself upset talking about how you met or something like that," She says, watching me, "Maybe you should talk about rebuilding?"

"Any place in particular?"

Annie grins wide and I wait for it.

"You lived in District 12," She says, letting go of my arm and looking directly at me, "Why don't we go back there and help rebuild it?"

"We?"

"I don't want to just sit around here, Peeta. And neither do you."

I shake my head, "No, Annie, you're pregnant, you can't stress yourself out trying to rebuild anything. I wouldn't let you, on behalf of Finnick."

Annie sighs, "Maybe not, but I don't want to be around here. I'd like to see another District. And it'd be nice to give you company, I know I could use a friend."

I allow the thought some time to settle, "Let me talk to a few people. I don't know if I'm convinced yet, but I'll try to consider it."

"You could use some air," She comments softly, hand rubbing over her stomach.

* * *

><p>I do give it thought, and it quickly becomes something like a good idea. Something I can't not think about.<p>

It's already feeling like something is missing in my life at this point. And, as the days pass, it's just me... watching a train crash in slow motion. Destructive, heart-wrenching, and completely inevitable.

_Out of my control._

Whatever control I could've had was stripped away.

I make a few more propaganda recordings, talking about helping each other, the movement, but I'm just sitting by, watching the action of the war.

It's everything I can do to just live through each day, hands shaking in fear for Katniss, trying my best to reassure Annie about anything and everything happening. But Haymitch continues to keep us up to date. 'She's been hurt', 'She's fine'.

'_We've lost contact.'_

And that's when the first real spell of worry starts to settle in with us both.

The realization that_ she's gone forever_. That Snow took her out at last.

_Doesn't matter,_ I try to tell myself,_ I lost Katniss a long time ago. This... This doesn't hurt at all._

_Right..._

_Yeah, it hurts, it hurts a whole hell of a lot. _But it's all I can do to keep moving forward.

Annie is the worst though.

She's so completely heartbroken and she can't hide it like I do, she can't keep anything from rising to the surface. It's impossible to comfort her, the only thing that makes it... easier? Is that we've **both **just lost the only people that really mattered to us.

_Though... I'm not pregnant._

_Annie is._

* * *

><p>"We can go," I tell her one morning, and she's sitting on the hospital bed after her checkup.<p>

"What?" She asks as she pulls her gown back down over her stomach.

I help her onto her feet, back into her shoes, "We can go join in the rebuilding of District 12, I know things have already started up over there. What's say we get out of here?"

"Why now?" Annie asks, taking my arm and walking with me.

"I can't stand being around here anymore," I say, "I couldn't stand it before, but I really think I'm fed up now."

She nods in agreement.

So, in an escape attempt, I have Haymitch move us over to District 12, to get some rebuilding done.

Annie moves into the house with me, as odd as it sounds, but neither of us wants to be alone, and the house is built for at least a family of ten. It'd just be a waste to make her live in another one of the homes in the Victor's village.

I think, also, in comparison to the days before the second games, this area is more full than the town down the road.

Others that have come before us to help have already settled in groups together, taking up nearly all of the homes here, filling every room. And they're grateful to have a baker.

Slowly, day by day, I begin to get into the routine of waking up and preparing bread for them, going out in between batches and helping lift and move heavy piles of rubble, buildings, separating things, until I start fitting in with them.

Annie quickly takes over my role as baker, before I even realize it's happening. But I only allow her to do very little each day. And, as stubborn as she is, she finds some kind of role to take over fully; she starts preparing everyone's lunches.

She's quick to state that she hates being put into the 'woman's role', but there's plenty of women on our team that won't even let her do **that **half of the time.

We've gotten to know quite a few of the team closely. They've all been very respectful of my silence and it's comforting to know that some people will allow me to drift sometimes.

I don't talk much, hardly at all when it's not needed, but they're all fine with that.

It's not long before I'm completely disconnected from the war, and simply concentrate on what's happening here in 12. _If they ever find Katniss's body, I'll never know, and it doesn't even matter; it shouldn't matter to me._

Even if she was alive, she wouldn't want to see me, she made that very clear. So did her husband.

And in the attempt to move on from Katniss, I find myself accidentally letting others in.

There are two of the cleaning team that have become... dear to me.

The first, a blind man, nearly as young as me, by the name of Clayton. The second is his sister, Mila, who is just a year younger than him.

The two of them have given me a sense of purpose in 12, keeping me on track and making sure I don't stray.

* * *

><p>Annie sits at the counter by me, looking through the book of herbs and putting index cards throughout the pages, "Some of these could be useful to go out and get."<p>

I lean over her and look at the worn paper that I've helped Katniss to color and draw out each plant.

"Our apothecary could help you get them," I comment, "I don't know if you should go out there alone, Annie."

"You don't have to avoid saying her name."

I raise my brow, "Who's?"

"Katniss," Annie says, smiling sadly.

"Katniss's mother," I correct, feeling the familiar lurch of pain. Annie nods in understanding and turns to hug me.

"It's no big deal to say," I try to cover up, "It's... It's not like they found a body."

Annie pulls away and stares up at me, "It's not like they found a body of Finnick either, but that doesn't stop it from bothering me; to say his name."

I'm about to respond when a voice clears from the door and we both look up, Annie turning around on her stool.

"Mila?" She asks, smiling, "What's wrong?"

Mila, brazen and bold, opens the door the rest of the way and raises her hand, "Well, It's kind of lunch," she motions to the bag in her grip.

Annie brightens up immediately, "Come on in, where's Clayton?"

Mila opens the door wider to let her brother inside.

Clayton, with his wide smile and short cut black hair identical to his sister's, walks in with the second bag and greets us both, "Good afternoon, Peeta. Hi Annie." He's both nervous and excited, I can see the smooth area between his brows, which is best considered for innocence, but I'm positive that he's still unsure where he sits with us.

The way he looks, both unknowing, and also aware of his presence makes Clayton one of the more interesting people I've met. He's always particular around certain people, and I almost think he's unaware of how the outside of his body shows us what he's feeling inside fairly easily.

I've seen this reaction in him before, and I know it's honest on his part, and maybe unintentional, but it does worry me.

As he walks forward and Annie helps him find a seat, I watch his grin widening,_ he's a nice guy... But Finnick could still be alive._

"So," Mila says, clearing her throat again, I'm pretty sure even she knows how her brother feels. "I have a question for you two, it's personal though, if you don't mind."

I stand up and walk to the fridge to get us all drinks, "What's that?"

Mila, similar to Johanna in only one way, doesn't bother battling around a bush to get her words out, "I know Annie's pretty pregnant with another guy's baby and all, and there's Katniss for you, but... Are you two...?"

I turn back to her and see Annie's face redden, she can't normally handle the confrontation, so it's up to me in this case.

The hinting of our relationship, it's possible, it's understandable that people would construe it in a wrong way; but because as odd as our situation has been here, I wasn't completely convinced that Annie could get a crush on me at all.

Finnick has been her one love, forever. It doesn't make sense that either of us could move on.

I could be wrong, but I'm positive that if I'm still me and she's still her, that it's impossible. It's impossible for me, naturally.

I'll have to ask her in my own time, on our own, but I decide to immediately let Mila, and her brother, which is probably the real reason for her asking this question, relax.

"No," I say, laughing it off rather convincingly, "Annie and I are close, but we're like you two. It's not really possible for either of us to–that would just be odd."_ I hope._

Clayton, sometimes catches his sister's brevity though, and his curiosity, or concern, can overpower his shyness. "Is he attractive?"

Mila and Annie both laugh at the question but neither of them answer him.

"What I mean is," Clayton smiles still, not taking either of them personally, "Katniss and you were pretty famous together, Peeta, and I've heard a lot of women talk. And here, you just seem to be causing a lot of... Triangles."

I shrug, but he can't see it. Clayton has always been very kind to me, he's just a kind person, and he's never been nosey, or pushy with me. And I don't think he's intending offense here. Maybe he's being honestly innocent, or maybe he's trying to clear the air; for all of us.

And, a part deep inside of me whispers:_ if Finnick is really dead, he'd be a great man for Annie to have by her side. _If I can allow him the chance to get there, maybe admitting my own skeletons outward will give him the comfort he needs to continue to pursue her. _Who am I to judge the guy for taking a chance? He could make them both very happy._

So I give him the only comment I've got, even though it takes everything I have to say it.

"They're all pointless, Clayton," I manage, "Katniss is the only woman that has ever meant anything to me like that. No one else really fills her spot. No one ever will."

Clayton, maybe relieved, looks a little hurt and worried. And, even though he might be somewhat happy about me not being with Annie, he continues on with real, strong concern.

"You seem to have written off love completely," His expression changes painfully, "Why do it so early? You're young."

"Katniss could also still be alive," I tell him, silently giving him warning as well, "If there's any chance that she is, then my heart's going to wait for her."

Clayton nods, understanding.

Mila, however, looking between us, and then at Annie, finally stands up. She's polished off her sandwich and wiped her hands on her jeans, "Back to work?"

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	39. Chapter 9 OPTD: The Easy Way Out

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hello my lovely readers!

This is the last chapter/update until 2012! Hard to believe it, huh?

This year has been filled with a lot of odd emotions on my part. Lots of hurt and anguish and pain, but also a lot of joy. Writing this fic has been an awesome outlet, and I'm very glad I've had the experience with all of you, learning about each of you and writing to yer satisfaction.

It has been amazing, being so well accepted by you guys and I look forward to the action and awe that will happen with the following chapters of ISDP. If you have any questions to submit, feel free to start on that, or scenes to request, don't even hesitate. The chapters aren't coming to an end just yet, but I'd like to get those started asap, if you know what I mean. XP

I hope that all of you are safe fer the following holidays and that everything goes well fer you, please take care and enjoy the last option update of 2011! All of them, including P, are up to chapter 9, and things seem fairly comfertable, until 10.

Read on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

JJ: "Being able to respond to it in any form makes things easier, tho I have to say, yer paragraphs blow my mind. XP

First: I think a lot of my personality and habits come out in my writing, personally. I've often said that nearly the rest of my life is no secret to my readers if they're the ones reading my stories, then they already know everything intimate about me, honestly. No point in secrets once it reaches that. XP But no, I don't think it's stalkerish, the profile is there fer other people to read. It's just nice to know that some people actually ARE.

Second: It's really not a porn, I promise. I wasn't thinking of the names like that until I said the title out loud to someone else, but at that point I didn't have the heart to change it. And once people read it, they'll totally understand what I mean. Fictionpress is owned by this site, it's just fer original werk, poems, plays, scripts, stories, anything 100% original. So a lot of my poetry is up there. ^^ I have a livejournal acc as well but it doesn't rly exist. Lol. I'm mostly here and DeviantArt. Well, and Twitter. And Tumblr.

Third: Yeah I'm totally with you there on all points. Like it all started with Gone With The Wind. And how about Cirque Du Freak? How badly did they fuck that one up? It's embarrassing, honestly.

I've been more disappointed by other books, so I allow SuCo to get away with a little more than some other horrible authors that I have to force myself through the last two movies of. My readers all prolly know who I'm talking about, I'm sure. But I'll try and be sure to make everything in my stories/fics/trilogies make sense and come to reasonable closes and endings.

I don't ever want to be the kind of person that ignores their readers. Everyone is so dear to me, I don't want to have people feeling overlooked. And I'm glad that I have such a great group of people that are dear to me, I know them as well as I can, and even some I share personal messages with back and forth in-between chapter updates. I'd honestly like to be like that with everyone. ^^ I adore even more the ones that share new news with me about like Hunger Games and Glee and stuff, it's kinda awesome. And yeah, the engagement was cute and very sweet, also very unique, of course TristAn would go out of his way to make it abnormal. XP I look forward to you signing in, these responses make my fic look longer than it is. Lol.

Most of the time, my faves are in odd places. With Harry Potter, it was the 6th, with Pendragon it was the 7th, with Dresden it was prolly the 7th, with Uglies it was the 3rd, and Hunger Games is hard fer me to decide on too. Yer right when you say they have good points. 1 with just Peeta and the mystery of them in general, 2 because of the hot scene in the games, XP, and 3 I really liked when he was freaking out and she kissed him and was like all: 'Stay with me'. But I think the one that DIDN'T disappoint me all along UNTIL the end was the first. The rest had scenes in the middle that really ticked me off. And yes, this review has been the longest by far. But I love it. And I'm normally very sociable, in every sense of the werd. But it's always easier on the computer when you don't have people interrupting, and you have time to get yer thoughts out.

I did everything on my website, on my own. I'm not really comfertable with the thought of another person messing with it, I guess. But I did all of the graphics and stuff. It's a fun/small little thing. At this point, it's just fer show now, I rarely use it. Which is why I put P on it, to give it some purpose. I'm an odd 90s kid, more of the Mighty Max, Tick, Magic School Bus stuff. But I do love some Simpsons, who doesn't? And Doug was good stuff.

Authors note OCD? That doesn't sound like fun. Most of the things that are in my A/Ns normally end up in the ending interview. So I guess you can just look forward to that. But most of mine (a/ns) are sometimes off topic, talking about Dexter and Glee.

Option P is such an awesome option to write, it's totally the way that everyone wanted the books to go, instead. The Katniss in P is a bit more aware of her feelings fer Peeta, instead of just writing him off like she did in the books. Feel free to put them both in one review, that's fine.

Katniss won't be in it fer a good while, honestly. A lot of things are going to happen before she comes along, tho I can promise you that both Katniss's mother AND Prim WILL be. I think Peeta is more after the closure, the comfert in knowing that the woman he loves is alive in the world he's in, you know? Just to know that she's safe and sound would be enough fer him. Peeta is rly the ideal man. He's the guy that will sit by and wait fer her, but I'm not going to promise anything. You seem too quick to think that it'd just settle that way. And it doesn't seem rude at all, Peeta rly does deserve someone better, but I guess things in this option will have to just happen, and lulz at the comment of her chasing after him. You should definitely stick around in Option C. I really wanted to have more Annie and it just seems like it makes sense fer the two to comfert each other considering they're both losing the people that they love, and at the same time... Neither Katniss, nor Finnick have to die, do they? Peeta and Annie are not getting together, I can promise you that, but he does feel very brotherly to her, that's fer sure. Tho Clayton is an awesome guy, apparently. I'm glad you like the Mila thought, it should be obvious by now, yeah? I didn't want to throw it in people's faces. But you'll have to wait and see how that werks itself out in the new year. ^^ I would never make you wait too long fer an update, I promise.

No problem, thanks fer taking the time to write an awesomely long review, I always enjoy them. If you ever ferget anything feel free to send me a message or email me, or anything. I check everything quite regularly. Until next time!"

Kate: "I'm glad you do! And it's amazing that yer going to be one of those that read all of the options. Do tell me what you think of them, I'm looking forward to hearing more from you. Lol, and I'll try my hardest to drag the story along until yer sick of it, XP. This is, by far, the longest fic that I have EVER written. No more updates after this chapter tho until 2012, but I promise that all of the options will come back strong and action-packed, you have my werd. Happy Holidays to you too!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Spoke up and thought I'd try,

Try to step across the line.

You know that I've been thinkin' 'bout it for a while.

Starting to think it's time I leave.

Does me good to know I finally feel,

Feel this pain, it's real.

It's possible.

You say:

"Can't change the winds," you say.

Won't matter anyway.

Can't reach that far, 'cause it's impossible.

It's impossible.

Can't rise above this place.

Won't change your mind, so I pray.

Breakin' down the walls,

To the impossible.

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><p><strong>Chapter 9 - The Easy Way Out<strong>

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><p>"Starting it like this feels cheapened," The first young woman on the left-hand side of the board table says, interrupting Kurgan's speech. And, while I would agree with her, I didn't expect someone of the table to cut someone else off in the middle of their sentence. Even the rest of the room doesn't seem phased by the action at all.<p>

Kurgan closes his mouth and smiles, bowing to her slightly, "Why?"

The woman stands up and walks to the window facing outward. From there, I'm sure she can see into the deep darkness below us; into the heart of Adler, and the sort of reflection of it's depth in her glasses makes her profile haunting. But, from where I'm sitting, I can get a clear view of the line from her scar over the left eye, marring her skin.

During this entire speech from Kurgan, no one's said a thing, and now that he's been interrupted, they're all waiting patiently for this woman to speak her point of view on the war that's possibly ahead of us.

"We aren't dying out," She says, almost too soft to hear, "We're stronger than we've ever been before."

Kurgan watches her in an almost fascination, and you can tell from him the amount of respect he has. It's something that completely puzzles me about these people, Ben and Kurgan both, men that should be forcing their hand above others, or normally would be, and yet they seem to understand that they need each other to be good at their respective jobs.

_None of them question this young woman._

"The people on the surface are suffering," She says, almost sadly, "And we can bring them a rest. Why stay here in our comfortable homes, when they need us?"

Kurgan, even though she's asked an open question, doesn't answer.

As she's still staring out below, she reaches her hand up and the fingers trace over the line of her scar, nearly touching the pupil of her eye as it travels the pale line, it's an obviously common action on her part. "We keep arguing in here, over and over again about what the right thing to do is. Well, it isn't right to let those people suffer. And there's a world outside left to explore. Why leave it to them? It's also rightfully ours."

This is when someone else finally speaks, a much younger girl says just a few words that will stick with me; and hopefully everyone else.

"We're being selfish."

Because I wouldn't have thought that, I wouldn't have thought these people were selfish at all, but it seems like she's been here longer than me, so it's possible that she knows more than I do. Maybe I don't know anything of these people at all.

"Do you think we're selfish?" Kurgan asks, looking at me._ It's like he's reading my mind._

I raise my head, having expected to just be listening in for now and I feel Katniss's hand squeeze mine, "What?"

A couple of the rooms inhabitants laugh light-heartedly, and even Kurgan smirks.

"I'm not attacking," He reassures, "I know your kind take things differently than we do, but I'm not attacking or accusing. I honestly want to know what you think of us. You've been quiet."

I look around to catch the eyes of a few more people, and then sit up in my chair, "I don't know what to think. I mean, I'd like to look into it more, but I don't know what kind of people you are, not at all. Every time I think I've gotten something figured out, you surprise me."

Ben, sitting between two of the people to my right, says: "We surprise you?" He raises a brow, "With what, exactly?"

"The light," I start to explain, "That's technology unlike anything I've ever seen. And the way you treat each other. It's very different. If you saw how our people of power are, you might think we're uptight."

"Only Ben," The young girl at the table says, smiling, "He's the uptight one."

Kurgan takes his own seat and rests his hands in front of him on the table, "Well, we haven't seen much of the people of Panem, but I gather they're all very odd; colored skin, accents, I'm sure you've seen it all. What do you mean by 'uptight' though?"

The woman by the window is still touching the scar on her face when she speaks up, "Is it a bad thing?"

"You're all comfortable, with each other," I say, pulling my hand from Katniss's, "You talk over each other, you joke, but you're people of power, that's normal?"

Kurgan nods, "Is there a different way to be?"

"Not for you," I say instantly and this catches a good few's attentions that I didn't have, including the woman by the window, who finally turns to look at me.

"Not for us?" She asks.

The way these people work seems well, so I don't want to be the one to put into their minds that there **should be **another way. As far as I'm concerned, this feels better.

"Don't be afraid," Ben offers, "We're not all so sensitive. Say what you feel."

"But that **is **what I'm afraid of," I admit to him, trying not to lie, "I like what you have going here, I don't want it to change because of something I say."

One of the older men chuckles and says: "Humans change all of the time, we're not afraid of that."

"I thought I explained this," Ben says, making a motion to the area around us.

"Yeah," I agree, "I get that, I know where you're coming from. But humans have shared their beliefs in the past and it's been devastating before. It's ruined a lot of tradition."

"I'm sure we know the past better than you do, Peeta," Kurgan says, interrupting me, "If there's one thing history teaches us, it's that the winner writes it. Whatever you've been told is different in other people's eyes–"

"But he's right," The girl from the window crosses her arms, "He's not wrong about the traditions."

"Laciel, he can't–"

"I think he can," The woman, Laciel, I'm guessing, walks around the table and takes her own seat, "If Peeta feels that their ways are wrong, and he doesn't want to taint us, who are we to complain? Curiosity, Kurgan."

Kurgan backs off immediately, as if understanding something she's said, "Alright, so he keeps his secrets, what kind of agreement are we coming to here?"

A third woman, older than the first two, sitting just across from me, smiles warmly, "Peeta's been silent, didn't we come here to meet him?"

"We did, Athena," Ben confirms and stands up, "This is Peeta Mellark, everyone."

They all look at me in a sort of way that reflects curiosity, interest, maybe a slight confusion as well.

But Ben clears the air before they have time to speculate, "Peeta Mellark, though young, has seen more than anyone in Panem, right, Kurgan?"

"You could say that," Kurgan agrees, albeit in amusement rather than confirmation.

Ben waves his playfulness off though, "Right. For those of you that don't know Peeta, that's alright, we've been very quiet about him. He's from the Mining District, he's a baker, and he was in two Hunger Games."

The youngest girl there, the 'we're selfish' one, looks at me with interest and amazement, "Isn't that impossible?"

"Obviously not," Kurgan says, "That's why Peeta and Katniss are so special."

"Katniss Everdeen?" The girl asks.

"The woman," Ben supplies, "The woman beside him."

This catches everyone's attention and even the older man up front turns his chair to look at my wife.

Katniss bows her head, face flushing red.

"Oeric's daughter?" Laciel asks.

"The very same," Kurgan smiles at the recognition, "The Mockingjay, the Girl on Fire. They're both survivors of the games; both twice."

Ben takes his seat and Kurgan stands this time; as if they've thought this through.

Everyone around takes their eyes away as he begins to talk to them, as he explains our past. It's tragic, to hear him set out our struggle in such a formed way; to hear the time line.

"Katniss Everdeen was targeted by the top-ground rebellion group in the old Nuclear Weaponry District. Twice destroyed, now," He says in a dark, serious tone, "They set Katniss up as a figure of hope and bravery in the games, but it was Peeta that made the impossible actually happen when he put his life on the line to save her. Their devotion to each other drew out something from the games that noone would've expected. Because on top, comradery, or respect for one another means nothing in the games. And Peeta proved that wrong. He fought for her from the moment it all started, until now. He lost a leg, he lost his family."

As I sit, as Katniss reaches up to take my hand again in her's, I turn and look into her eyes to see the warmth and comfort. Her smile as Kurgan mentions Cato and the fake wedding that was actually real to us, our commitment, my commitment, to taking care of Katniss through everything in our lives.

"If there's one person that can shed light on the situation above, it's Peeta Mellark," Kurgan sets it up for me, "He's seen the worst of it."

"He's been through the worst of it," Ben adds.

Since he started talking though, the people of the board have slowly turned back to me once again, and finally it's so that all of them are staring in expectance, waiting for me to speak up.

"Kurgan's right," I say to them all and they smile, nod in agreement; understanding. But they misunderstand me completely. Ben is the only one that looks surprised.

Even Kurgan nods in agreement, but I quickly set them all straight.

"I don't agree to you fighting in this war. It's not your's to fight in."

"Peeta," The youngest girl, who's name I have yet to learn, looks honestly annoyed at me, "How can you say that?"

Laciel puts her hand on the girl's shoulder to settle her down.

"I can't come in here and demand your people fight my war, that's not right," I explain, "We've all been coming to you for help, being additions, maybe burdens, I don't know, but I don't feel like we should keep pressing on you to fight for us."

"We want to," Ben offers.

"He's right," Madge says over them looking at me in a sort of idolizing way, "We can't just keep asking for help, it's our fight to get through. If we can't make it alone, then we don't deserve to. We have to be able to do it on our own."

Ben starts to shake his head when Kurgan bursts in agreement, "Exactly, that's what I've been trying to say."

"However," I say, louder than them, to calm the room, "I only think it's right that you be given everything; that you know what's going on up there. It's fair."

"Peeta," Ben warns.

"They are going to lose."

Everyone capable of arguing at this point seems to calm and look at me in surprise. Kurgan frowns, looking almost wounded. Laciel takes her eyes from me completely to stare at her hands. Even the young girl looks startled.

Katniss's fingers squeeze my hand tightly.

"If you don't help, they'll lose," I continue, "That's the truth. And not just one side; both sides."

"How can you know that?" Kurgan starts to argue.

"Because I've been up there," I say to him, staring into his eyes, "I've seen what's happening to them. The Districts of Panem, most of them are falling to pieces right now, the people have lost hope, they don't have any strength left to fight. And without District Thirteen to be there for them, to supply the brute force and technology, they're done for."

A few of the board nod, it's not something any one can argue, considering they don't really know. But my words make sense, at least.

"And the Capitol will lose all of it's precious resources. They won't have people to mine for them after the war, not enough to last. They won't have enough people harvesting food that they require either, or taking care of cattle. They'll have taken a huge hit from the war, lost lives," I meet each of their eyes, serious, and calm, "They might make it through the first few weeks, but they won't have enough people for long. They might die out too."

Ben swallows nervously.

Kurgan shrugs and looks away, "They brought it on themselves."

"That right," I agree with him, "They did. They've done a lot of horrible things the each other; they made this war themselves. But I don't believe, not for a second, that the people of the districts deserved what they've gotten."

The group isn't prepared when I motion to Katniss and offer her as an example, "This is my wife." They nod, some smile, but I continue, "She's pregnant, did you know that?"

All of them look surprised and they start to congratulate us, Madge blushing and clapping, but I raise a hand to silence them.

"Children are our future," I say and they look back to me again, "They're life. They're positive energy in the world, they make you smile. They're wonderful, aren't they?"

As the group nods, I can see both Ben and Kurgan begin to give me a curious look.

"So this child grows, and we raise it, and we help it learn, we teach it to talk," I continue softly, gently, something I've thought a million times or more, "Maybe it's a beautiful little girl. And we get her walking, we teach her about the world, we feed her every night, tuck her into bed, we chase away her nightmares."

Katniss's eyes are tearing up, but she doesn't look away from me, not once. And I finally turn to look at her.

"But then she's twelve, she's only just gotten out into the world, she's only just begun to grow into a young lady, she's everything to us," I look around at the board watching us intensely, "You all would probably adore her, right?"

They all nod.

"What if, though, you saw her drawn into the games?" I supply and Ben sits back, smiling wide because he knows that I've already won them over, but I decide to shed them some more light.

"In the games, there are twenty-three other kids being forced in, and within the first minute, our child, that we've loved so dearly, that we've raised, is killed in front of our very eyes," Everyone looks shocked, troubled, sad, nearly heart-broken when I say this, "We could do nothing to save her. All we can do is sit back and watch while another kid stabs her to death."

Kurgan even looks upset, he's crossed his arms and says: "That's not right."

"No," I agree, "It's not right. It's a horrible thing. And I've sat through it every year of my life, watching kids on the screens, children of mothers that are at home, watching their life die on screen. I've had friends die before."

The youngest girl, the one by Laciel, has her hand over her mouth.

"Katniss's little sister Prim was drawn in the year I was," I say, looking at her, "And Katniss took her place, offered her life, because she didn't want to see that happen. Who in their right mind would? So if you're going to sit here and argue that it's not your war, that they deserve it, that they brought it on their selves; you're not wrong. You're right."

And I leave it at that.

The silence that follows is stunning, and Katniss's hand has begun to smooth across her stomach like she's nervous. So I reach over and press my own palm to the baby bump, lacing my fingers with Katniss's and staring at her.

Kurgan finally speaks after a few minutes, "Twelve years old?"

"Twelve," Katniss says finally.

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I love you guys, be safe, feel free to review in yer own time, just have great holidays and be happy. I hope everything's looking up fer you guys!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	40. Chapter 10 OPTA: Murderer

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Loved you all, missed you bunches! I hope everyone had a great new years and things are going well. I leave fer Canada in about a week and a half. ^^

But besides fer this, I have something to share:

Ok, so I need to get out possibly THE biggest rant as far as consistency in SuCo's writing capabilities goes.

I know that I'm not the best writer ever, nor am I going to be, I'm not conceited enough to think so. But I did have an epiphany that maybe I look at things in a different perspective than SuCo does. So read on, and enjoy or criticize my theory on the complete wrongness and utter fanfiction quality that is Mockingjay.

From my experience, writers get BETTER over time, not werse. So why did this even happen?

**This is it:**

Let me bring you back in time to Hunger Games, Book 1, when SuCo took readers by surprise; by having Peeta out DOING THINGS WHILE KATNISS WAS BOUNCING ABOUT ON A CLOUD.

Need I remind you of the scene on the rooftop when he mentions that Cinna brought him up there before? When Katniss would randomly come to dinner and he'd already be there having a convo with Haymitch? Or when he joined the Careers to save Katniss and got beaten up by them in the process? Or another time when he was running around with a wounded leg and painted himself into the mud? How about when he nursed wounded Katniss in the cave? Or ran off to get BERRIES?

How about the time when Cinna mentioned that Peeta would 'like Katniss's dress'?

THAT'S SOME SERIOUS DETAIL.

It took me by surprise that Peeta was about doing his OWN thing.

So why is it... that in Book 3, there are gaps in this?

I ran over the scene I'm ABOUT to write in Peeta's pov, in hopes fer some... iuno... Attention to detail? And found it COMPLETELY lacking.

As a matter of fact, it didn't even make SENSE.

Obviously this isn't spoilery, because you all have READ the friggin book.

So let me point out THIS abomination of a scene. No, not the 'Real or Not Real' end, that's fer later.

This is the scene when Boggs gets his legs blow off and Peeta flips shit and tries to kill Katniss, but succeeds in killing Mitchell instead.

In the scene, Boggs's legs are blown off and everyone's running around, screaming, freaking out. What is Peeta doing? Iuno, standing in a corner, I guess.

Katniss scrambles to Boggs and tries to figure out what to do when he asks fer her to go and find the Holo.

What is Peeta doing now? Probably still standing off to the corner. Biting his nails? Baking some bread?

Katniss runs around in search fer the Holo, which I imagine takes some time, all the while... Peeta is still baking bread, I guess.

Katniss finally finds the Holo, comes back to Boggs, and he takes some time typing into it, "Say your name," "Katniss Everdeen".

Finnick is freaking out, Jackson's yelling, Gale and Leeg 1 are shooting around fer more bombs.

Where is Peeta? Has he HONESTLY just been bubbling around, drooling, or spacing out?

Finally Katniss struggles to get Boggs away from the violence, Peeta flips and attacks her.

Why now? Honestly?

HONESTLY?

I want to know.

Thanks to SuCo, I have to write this scene in some odd believable way that will make sense.

Alright, I feel better, I just needed to rant, sorry you guys, I really did. Lemme try and calm down now.

Thanks you all fer sticking around and being patient, waiting fer updates, but I promise you the next four will be very close to back to back to back.

Please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Chrissy: "It's nice to know that the most original of the 5 is very loved. This is awesome to hear, I'm glad that yer enjoying! And thanks fer reviewing!".

EmmaN'M's: "ty ty, you too!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

It takes time,

To heal the wounds I've made along the way.

If I'm blind,

Open my eyes 'cause I need to see again.

If I can feel again,

Will you tell me now,

Or wait til I'm broken down again?

Save me now,

I'm broken.

If I bleed,

My lies won't fill the emptiness inside.

I just need,

For something real to open up my mind.

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><p><strong>Chapter 10 - Murderer<strong>

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><p><em>I've been more in my own mind today than I think I should.<em> Though, it's given me time to clear through some things, and try and sort out new information, or renewed information, I find myself constantly in a state of borderline paranoia.

As I'm watching Katniss, watching Gale and Finnick, as they act out scenes and the film crew follows after, I'm only forced into my own reactions, trying to be as convincing as possible.

They're all laughing at the awful acting of Mitchell, gasping and jerking around like he's on some sort of high, and I don't take part, but it's entertaining in it's own way.

Boggs, standing nearby, just feet from me, struggles to keep his composure while observing his Holo, "Pull it together, Four-Five-One."

I'm observing him when he steps backwards and I see the depression of his left leg before something beneath him explodes upwards, outwards and there's only a second of shock and fear when the blood from the destruction of his lower half splatters across my face.

The warmth of it over my cheeks, filling the crease of my lips, weighing on my clothes, nearly pushing me back by it's force of exit causes the feeling of my own foot to numb completely and in just a second I find myself on my knee, gasping for breath.

I struggle to pull my eyes from the horror, to hide the death and violence away as images flood my mind, a dark room where only her voice haunts me. Where she threatens me and fills me with so much hate that _I want to kill her._

_She killed Darius, she killed Lavinia. She's the reason that his fingers were cut off._

_I couldn't trust her from the start._

I look up, see her pulling Boggs from the large spread of his body parts, and the fear, the hate, the pain washes over me.

_This is what I came here to do, this is my moment, I have to end her now._

I reach forward and grab her by the back of her neck, pulling her off of her feet and aim the butt of my gun to her head when she rolls out from under me. But before I'm able to turn to her again, something comes from the side, out of my view, and knocks me off my feet.

Mitchell, struggling to hold me down, stopping me from killing her and I kick him off, shoving the bottom of my boot against his stomach and jumping back up to get after Katniss again. _I won't be stopped this time._

But just as I move for her, arms wrap around my shoulders and torso to hold me back.

Pollux is silent as he removes my gun, but his brother tries to calm me down, "Peeta, Peeta, it's alright, breathe, think about this."

"You have to let me kill her," I breathe out, mostly through my nose, "Castor, you have to let me kill her this time, or she'll try to kill me."

"That's not her," Castor says but I shift against him as he talks, searching for a moment of weakness.

I try to force myself free when Jackson moves forward to put cuffs on my wrist.

"Don't," I try to reason with her, "Don't let her go, don't let her go."

Jackson pushes me backwards and closes the door, locking me inside of a dark, empty room.

_A dark room._

"No!" I shove myself against the door, force my fists against it, "Don't leave me in here. Don't leave me!"

I kick against it, force my foot into the middle of it over and over again. But the door doesn't splinter or even moan in protest.

Finally, I'm so exhausted, so terrified that I sit down. Kicking back into a corner and burying my face from the dark surrounding me, frustrated, fear attacking my insides until fatigue makes itself known, and the adrenaline ebbs at last.

* * *

><p>When I wake up, it's to light, not darkness.<p>

I'm on a soft couch, and everyone sitting around me has their eyes trained on a screen; a report of destruction on the block we came from.

_I... I can't even remember what happened. It's so... Blurry._

"My father," Leeg 1 says from near me, "He just lost my sister and now..."

The content in the sentence doesn't make sense as I blink, forcing my eyes to clear and stare up at the screen to try and gather some sort of knowledge.

All I can see on it is some video of the violence I remember. Me, standing by Boggs, and his bottom half missing as Katniss scrambles around to find the Holo he'd asked for.

The violence of it causes my body to shake, watching the blood on me, watching as I collapse to my knees.

Everyone, including Katniss, watches as I become something I didn't ever think I could become. _A muttation._

I watch myself, me, as I rush at Katniss and try to kill her.

That man, on the screen,_ he doesn't even look like me. _He's so blood-crazed, using the butt of his gun to try and crush her skull, shoving Mitchell away.

But what hurts me more than just seeing myself completely lose it, is the fact that the man I'd kicked away in the midst of trying to take out Katniss, ended up dying in the struggle. _And it was my fault. I murdered him._

We all watch the video play over and over, as the announcers claims us dead, as I kneel in the blood, as I grab Katniss like an animal and try to kill her, as I murder a man, as I struggle against Pollux and Castor to try and kill her off.

As I try to rationalize my madness to them. As I claim she'll kill me, when I'm the threat.

_I'm the threat, I'm the mutt._

Finally, once the footage passes, I watch the clips they've woven together, Prim's name being called, Katniss running up and jumping in front of her, a pan of the crowd and I see my own reaction then, terrified and shocked. That Peeta's gone now, but it's relieving to see him, to know that he existed once.

I watch as Katniss defends herself in the games and we try to eat the berries, and we try to give our speeches in the districts, and we're called into the second games.

Beside her is this strong man who loves and adores her. And I'm not him anymore.

_What I am, whatever inhuman thing I've become, needs to be destroyed, and I have to reason it with someone_.

The screen fades at last and Gale is the first to speak, "So," he starts, to clear the air, "Now that we're dead, what's our next move?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I ask, forcing myself up to sit and face them without the pain in my neck, as everyone turns to see at me, "Our next move... is to kill me."

Katniss looks immediately surprised.

Jackson scoffs and averts her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I just murdered a member of our squad!" I argue back.

"You pushed him off you," Finnick defends me, "You couldn't have known he would trigger the net at that exact spot."

"Who cares? He's dead, isn't he?" The emotions, the pain and fear at what I've seen myself do finally brims over and I have to struggle to keep my body under control, to not completely melt into a puddle in front of them, "I didn't know. I've never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I'm the monster. I'm the mutt. I'm the one Snow has turned into a weapon!"

Finnick tries to calm me again, "It's not your fault, Peeta," and I can see the pained look in his own eyes as I struggle against myself.

"You can't take me with you," I say finally, shaking my head, "It's only a matter of time before I kill someone else. Maybe you think it's kinder to just dump me somewhere. Let me take my chances. But that's the same thing as handing me over to the Capitol. Do you think you'd be doing me a favor by sending me back to Snow?"

"I'll kill you before that happens," Gale reassures, "I promise."

It's not enough though, it's not what I want._ For this to work at all, I have to die._

"It's no good. What if you're not there to do it? I want one of those poison pills like the rest of you have."

"It's not about you," Katniss finally says, clearing our stare down, "We're on a mission. And you're necessary to it."

Just like that, any plan of ending me, of finally resting my head, is squelched uncomfortably.

To her credit, _Katniss is the only one that can judge me now, _I think. I can only hope that her choice is the right one.

"Think we might find some food here?" She offers to the rest of the room.

I watch around as they search the home, house, room, living space for food and come up with a surprising bulk of canned foods and boxes of cream-filled cookies.

Katniss starts to sift around the cans when a particular one catches my eye.

I pull it up, roll the label around in my palm and then stretch my arm out so that it's before Katniss's eyes, "Here."

She immediately takes it, looks at it and I see her lips purse, her eyes glaze over, water welling up but she thanks me and opens it, peering inside, "It even has dried plums."

As she eats, I reach out and grab an interesting can of pears. I've only ever had them once, but my mouth waters at the memory, and what I eat from the can even manages to overshadow those.

We're just munching on some of the cookies when the screen in front of me comes on and it starts announcements for Snow. I'm interested, but I force myself to look away for fear of overwhelming thoughts.

Just the hair on the back of my neck prickles when they mentioned his name before. To watch him now would just be masochistic.

I feel a hand touch my forearm and look up to see Finnick pass over his rope of knots again. I immediately take it, grateful, and begin on the larger, unused end.

My ears home in on the ending sentence of President Coin: "If you ever waver in your resolve, think of the Mockingjay, and in her you will find the strength you need to rid Panem of its oppressors."

Her words, cold in her own way with the intent of Katniss's death, fill me with my own take on them.

To actually think of it _that way_.

Katniss has been her constantly, though some times not on her will, she has given me lots of hope before. She brought me through my mother, past the self-thought. She made that man who he was, to defend her honor, to try and bring her out of the games alive.

_Before she was the Mockingjay, before she was the Girl on Fire, before she was the leader of the rebellion to save the districts from their suffering, she was the gravity keeping me tethered to the soil under my feet._

_She was everything to them. She was more to me._

I reach up my hands, pull the left side of my jacket open and grab the pearl hidden in the pocket there against my breast. My fingers fumble over it, brushing across it's smooth surface as I think over my intentions lately.

_They haven't been about her, they've been manipulated._

_This little thing should've been enough. _I have to trust it to keep bringing me back, somehow._ It meant something to her, when I gave it over, it meant acceptance that she was going to fight for me, even if it was against me._

_I have to do the same thing. I have to fight for her, even against me._

_She always meant more than my self, it shouldn't be that hard._

"I had no idea how much I meant to her," Katniss jokes sarcastically, causing the room to join together in some light laughter.

* * *

><p>Afterwards, they discuss leaving and going underground, to move away from here and get some distance.<p>

It's the last real attempt I think I can make, on my own life, so I cross my arms and stare up at them as Katniss rolls her eyes.

"I'm not going," I tell her, "I'll either disclose your position or hurt someone else."

"Snow's people will find you," Finnick remarks.

"Then leave me a pill," I argue back again, "I'll only take it if I have to."

"That's not an option," Jackson says, reaching down to get me up, "Come along."

"Or you'll what?" I ask, pulling my arm from her and glaring into her eyes, "Shoot me?"

Homes shrugs, "We'll knock you out and drag you with us. Which will both slow us down and endanger us."

"Stop being noble! I don't care if I die!" I shout out of frustration finally and turn to Katniss in hope that she'll find some agreement. _She's just as insane as I am some times, with the berries, she has to be reasonable with this too. _"Katniss," I say, reaching out to her in desperation, "Please. Don't you see, I want to be out of this?"

The look in her eyes though, tells me all I need to know. I understand her probably better than she does, herself. And the sting of hurt is immediate, but she's immune to it as she stares coldly at me and denies my wishes.

"We're wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we knock you out?"

_She's not going to do it._

I struggle against it for only a moment, hiding my face, considering it. She's right, they all are, if I don't walk with them I'll just endanger them even more.

So, I stand up, shoulders slouched, and keep my eyes from hers as much as possible. _I'm not getting out of this in any easy way._

_It's gonna be bad._

_I'm gonna end up killing someone else._

"Should we free his hands?" Leeg 1 asks, maybe innocently, but I react immediately.

"No!" I shout, trying to hide my arms against my waist, trying to keep them out of anyone else's grasp.

"No," Katniss agrees and I feel my heart calm down again. At least she's being somewhat cautious of me, "But I want the key."

I look up at the words, watch Jackson hand it over, watch Katniss pocket it. I have to fight asking her to just throw it away.

Katniss's eyes meet mine and then she reaches out, touching my hand, "What's that?"

She looks skeptical, worried, like she thinks I'm hiding something harmful, but I open my palm and show her the pearl.

Her eyes lock on it before glancing back up to stare into my eyes.

"Peeta," She starts to say, closing my hand back over the gem and squeezing it tight with her own.

"We should get going," Gale says from behind us and shoves past to get to the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Welcome back, review please? ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	41. Chapter 10 OPTB: Knee Deep

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I was intending fer this chapter to be right behind the last, but between werk and being super friggin sick, I haven't had the energy to edit.

I've been writing a LOT though. I think I have up to chapter 12 of Option P written, so that will be coming up here shortly; Chapter 10 of P, I mean.

You'll all see it in an A/N when it happens. But it should be Saturday at the latest, I hope. This is my last week of werk, so I'll have time soon. Got to get packing fer Canada tho. ^^

I hope everything is going alright with you guys, I'll try to have more regular updates, but right now I'm chugging theraflu and walking around with a box of puffs and a handful of cough drops. Hopefully this sick clears up soon.

Not rly much more to mention, let's get right into it then!

Continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Kim: "Yeah when you reread over details as much as I do, to get the fic right, I guess things eventually bug and bug until they're all you can think about. I didn't want to sound too critical, but rly, rly. All of the pearls in here are in their places, I know where it was in the book, of course. Katniss never did ANYTHING with it, but a few readers wanted me to use it in A, so I did. I'll have a version that goes right through correctly, but A is already different than the book in SO many ways, it is tho... the closest, by far."

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I remember tears streaming down your face,

When I said: "I'll never let you go."

When all those shadows almost killed your light.

I remember you said: "Don't leave me here alone."

But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight.

Just close your eyes,

The sun is going down.

You'll be alright,

No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light,

You and I'll be safe and sound.

Don't you dare look out your window, darling.

Everything's on fire.

The war outside our door keeps raging on.

Hold onto this lullaby,

Even when the music's gone.

Gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10 - Knee Deep<strong>

* * *

><p>Both Boggs and I have been very weary about the camera shots through the street, keeping things around me as calm and known as possible. He's unnaturally concerned for me, but Katniss is just by his side when I try to reassure them.<p>

I think they're being over concerned. But I won't complain as long as everyone comes out alive.

The gym in District 13 had more violence than this, though. And that didn't startle a hair on my head.

Though they're all watching me, the mood is still very light-hearted and jokingly comfortable.

Watching Katniss reenact all of her emotions for the camera are both amusing and informative about herself.

She's never been much of an actress, but she's overshadowed by Mitchell, who is the most comedic person in the group, jumping into doorways and collapsing to the ground in a near panic, overacting every little muscle in his face.

Boggs, standing nearby me at the moment, as Katniss and Finnick joke with Mitchell, is barely hiding back a smile as he positions the Holo in his palms, "Pull it together, Four-Five-One," he says to them as he steps backwards. And I see the odd settling down of his left leg on a pastel, orange paving stone before it sets off a pressured bomb, exploding outwards and there's the uncomfortable, impending shock and struggle to get the words out, to reach out for him and help him as his body collapses down upon the parts that are flying about in multiple directions.

Blood slops in layers and spray over my face and body and it's the moment of tasting his blood, of screaming people around me, of other bombs going off, that causes me to move and help him.

I don't even have to guess that he's going to die, it's obvious, but I have to try something, _I have to at least try._

Katniss is by my side in an instant, hands reaching out over Boggs's bloodied mess of legs, muscle tissue and bone. Her face is pale as she swallows, trying to figure out what to do like I am.

"Move," a person says from behind her and I grab her arms, pull her out of the way as Homes comes in with a first aid kit to try and staunch the bleeding.

"Wait," Boggs says and I turn back to him, "The Holo," he rasps to us and I get up with Katniss as we struggle through the mess of chunks of him, bits of his pants and body armor, bones and blood until Katniss gasps in triumph.

"I got it."

"This is Four-Five-One to camp, Four-Five-One, we need a group of medics here on the field immediately," Jackson roars into her communicator, "Four-Five-One to camp, we need medics, copy?"

Finnick, to my left, is on his knees, shaking a girl that's collapsed from impact damage and Homes growls angrily from Boggs's side.

"Shit, he's not gonna make it."

Jackson tries to get through again, "This is Four-Five-One to camp, copy? We need a team of medics on the field."

In anger, in her frustration, Jackson throws down the communicator and pulls up her gun, "Either we're not getting through, or they're sleeping on the job."

I rush over to Katniss to see what Boggs's state is, inevitable, obviously, but he's typing ferverently into the Holo when he finally says: "Unfit for command. Transfer of prime security clearance to Squad Four-Five-One Soldier Katniss Everdeen."

"Peeta!"

I turn back as Finnick motions to me.

"Say your name."

"Katniss Everdeen," I hear her say, voice shaking as I stand up to join Finnick out in the middle of the road.

"Prepare to retreat!" Jackson shouts just as I pass her.

"Look!" Finnick yells finally, over her, pointing down the road and I see out, near the entrance of the block, a sort of fountain of black, oily... stuff coming up from the ground.

I stare at it for only a moment before I'm reminded of the smoke, fog from the seventy-fifth games, "That can't be safe, getting close."

"It's not," Jackson agrees, "Let's move Four-Five-One."

Leeg 1 motions to Finnick and they start testing the ground around us for more bombs. The method proves successful as it detonates a good few that would've all been mortally impacting had any one of us stepped upon them. But it's only a moment of reassurance when Finnick steps forward, not checking the ground below himself.

He's just an arm's reach from me when the trap is sprung. The wires, thick lines of metal snap out from the buildings around us and encase Finnick in a netting not dissimilar to the top fencing around our own District.

His entire body is instantly bloodied, arms and legs littered with wounds from the barbed wire.

"Finnick!" I'm shouting, heart clenching in fear, stepping up to him as he rises into the air. I aim my gun and start shooting up at the main cable lifting him until it snaps and he comes down hard, not high, but he does release a gasp of air in pain.

I run forward, grabbing at the wire, trying to help him out. He's panicking, rolling around in it and I'm afraid of getting cut when I remember that my hands aren't particularly sensitive. I can't blame him though, of course he's going to react violently.

"Stay still," I say to him, trying to pry the wire loose, "Stop moving."

He won't though, he just keeps gasping and grunting in agony as the blood streams over his face. He still has so much to live for. _I'll die before he dies, if I have to._

I grab tightly onto the wire and struggle against it until finally the first breaks apart and I quickly move on to the next.

Finnick groans in pain.

The group around us breaks through an apartment door as Mitchell kneels down, flipping open his pocket knife to help me, but the rest are yelling at us to hurry.

I don't even glance up to see how close the danger is, but I can smell a sort of obviously lethal scent wafting from it, hitting my nose at once and I'm forced to cover it with one arm.

"Peeta," Castor yells from inside of the house they're hiding in, "Leave him, he's done for."

No.

I fight to keep my eyes from looking at the gas or smoke coming at us as I snap both the second and third cable.

"Hold on, Finnick," I breathe out, struggle against the next two, "You're almost out."

"Just go," He says weakly, closing his eyes, "Go, or that stuff is going to kill you."

"No," I pull in a breath of air and instantly feel dizzy. Something drips down over my lips and I taste..._ Blood. _Not Boggs's this time_. It's my own._

"Go!" Finnick shouts and the shock of his own fear for me causes my shoulders to tremble as I break the fifth and sixth wires.

I shake my head.

"Katniss needs you," Finnick pleads, "Just go, Peeta."

My vision burns and blurs as I break through the last few cables holding him and he collapses against me, instantly struggles to stand up.

_But I can't bring myself to move._

Windows around us are being crushed by something and I hear the buildings foundations being rocked, the very ground stuttering below my feet, but the smell is so strong and I can't keep everything together.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts _from the apartment door, _I'm guessing.

Something tight grabs onto my arms and I'm being lifted, carried, dragged to safety. I can't bring my head up to see who it is.

Once I'm inside though, things start to clear considerably and I hear movement around me, the toxic matter passing by just in time, leaving destruction in it's wake.

_That would've been something to experience, being flesh and bone, out there on the road when that came through. And it was almost me._

Katniss helps to get me on my feet before wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her head to my chest as I cough to clear my lungs of the smoke.

Her hands reach up then, pressing a towel to my nose to stop the blood flowing down and I let my arms fall from around her, reaching up to hold it myself.

"Thanks."

She smiles weakly and moves across the kitchen to Boggs and I hear him handing over the Holo to her and saying words that surprise me; almost startle me.

"Don't trust them," He rasps weakly, "Don't go back. Kill Peeta. Do what you came to do."

Katniss's face pales, which is probably my own response if I'm not already pale enough, but she pulls back to stare into his eyes and asks, unsure: "What? Boggs? Boggs?" She turns back and looks at me, eyes wide in shock.

"He's gone?" Finnick finally asks, breaking up the uncomfortable silence between us.

"It would seem so," I answer first, watching as Katniss stands up again, the Holo in her hands.

"We need to get out of here. Now," Finnick says, wiping blood from his face, "I don't want to move as much as the next person, but we just set off a street full of pods. You can bet they've got us on surveillance tapes."

"Count on it," Castor says from his side, looking around at us. "All the streets are covered by surveillance cameras. I bet they set off the black wave manually when they saw us taping the propo."

"That's what we're calling that thing?" I pull the cloth away, checking if my nose is bleeding anymore, it's not, but it could come back again.

Castor shrugs but Finnick comments: "I'd like to think of it as a muttation itself."

"Our radio communications were dead almost immediately," Jackson says, her eyes trained on Katniss and Boggs, "Probably an electromagnetic pulse device. But I'll get us back to camp. Give me the Holo."

Katniss pulls away when Jackson reaches out to take it, "No, Boggs gave it to me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

I step between them and stare her down, "He did, I heard him."

"Move out of the way, Peeta," Jackson says, glaring up at me, "Why would he give it to her? I'm the next in charge."

"It's true," Homes speaks from behind her and reaches out to take her arm, "He transferred the prime security clearance to her while he was dying. I saw it."

Jackson shakes her head in disbelief, "He wouldn't do that, let me check it." She moves forward and tries to grab the Holo from Katniss again.

I raise my hand up to stop her, "It's done, back off."

"I'm in charge," Jackson raises her voice.

"Not anymore," I say over her and shove her away, "Boggs gave her the Holo, and we have to move, now. Where are we going?" I turn back to Katniss and she stares up at me, the device causing our conflict settled tightly in her grip.

"Snow?" She suggests, "That's what needs to be done."

"Then that's what's happening," I confirm.

Jackson comes from out of my vision, just the last step of hers causing me to look back to see her sucker punch me.

I reach up, shove her arm away from Katniss and slam my elbow into her jaw.

She staggers back, shock on her face as the rest of the group stands up in alert, "Don't," she says when a couple of them aim their guns at me, "Leave it."

Leeg 1 looks between us, her eyes wide with fear, her gun pointed at Jackson though, instead of me.

Jackson seems to notice this and raises her brow, "What exactly are you doing, Soldier?"

Finnick reaches his bloodied hand out and pushes the nose of the gun down, "Stop fighting now, all of you."

"Look," I clear my throat, staring around at them, "We need to get out of here quickly, and you're either in it with us, or you're not. But we're taking the Holo, we're going after Snow, and they probably already think we're dead anyways, so either way... What happens from now on is what you choose to do, yourself."

Finnick nods in agreement, "I'm with you, we need to move."

Jackson rolls her eyes, "I wasn't completely against you," she crosses her arms and glares at me, "I'm on your side."

The rest of the group seems to nod in agreement and then move about, preparing to leave.

"What about Boggs?" Leeg 1 asks, her gun now held close to her chest.

"We can't take him," Finnick says, "We're in bad shape as it is, he'd understand."

Katniss looks down at the Holo in her hands while I help her up from the floor, "I don't know how to use this," she says, motioning to Jackson, "Could you help me with it?"

Jackson looks immediately appalled and snatches it from her but she slows when I move in to warn her, "Sorry," she snaps to me before she starts working the Holo. She does know what she's doing with it, but I keep a close eye on her just in case she gets any wise ideas.

"If we go out the kitchen door, there's a small courtyard, then the back side of another corner apartment unit. We're looking at an over-view of the four streets that meet at the intersection."

Katniss leans over her shoulder and finally says: "Alright, put on your masks. It looks like we're going out the way we came in."

Jackson turns to her, "That's insane."

"The black mass," Homes adds.

"If the wave was that powerful," Katniss raises her voice to quiet them, "Then it may have triggered and absorbed other pods in our path."

Pollux is the first to respond, turning to his brother and makes a waving motion, then cupping his hands together.

"He's right," Castor agrees looking between Katniss and I, "The wave could also have disabled the cameras as well. Coated the lenses."

I nod slowly, "We'll see, if there's anything that's impossible about it, we'll know in the first few seconds we're out there."

We all prepare our masks, tightening the face of it until Katniss pushes the kitchen door open and steps out onto the body of black tar-like substance over the flooring of the apartment we're in.

She looks back after herself and smiles, "Looks like we won't be leaving a trail."

I follow after her, pushing the door wider for everyone else and we all slowly trek our way through the living room until we're outside on the street, walking in a thick body of the black mass, the substance reduced to form-keeping gel-like ooze coating what use to be a soft pink and orange pastel colored, cobbled street.

In a collective group, we follow Katniss, the Holo glowing from in front of her as she leads down another block, the ooze getting thicker as we make distance.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Review please? Option C should be up some time in the next few days.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	42. Chapter 10 OPTC: Just Behind Me

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option C<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Option P is up on the site now! Also, these two took time coming up because I've been super fucking sick fer like a week now, I swear it's just getting werse.

I really hope I'm not sick on the flight up to Canada, that would SUCK. But I'm also afraid of getting werse by being around so many people with a weakened immune system. /fear

Glee soon! Who's excited? Me? ^^ Omg, srsly can't wait.

As far as anything else in life goes, I've got lots of shit to do, things to pack and scan over the next few days, it might be some time before D comes up, hope you all can wait fer it. I'll also be putting up sections of the site rly soon that have to do with this fanfic, that'll be fun. ^^

I should prolly go, I have a lot of phone calls to make. Ta fer now!

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone and enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Kim: "Yeah when you reread over details as much as I do, to get the fic right, I guess things eventually bug and bug until they're all you can think about. I didn't want to sound too critical, but rly, rly. All of the pearls in here are in their places, I know where it was in the book, of course. Katniss never did ANYTHING with it, but a few readers wanted me to use it in A, so I did. I'll have a version that goes right through correctly, but A is already different than the book in SO many ways, it is tho... the closest, by far."

Chrissy: "Ugh, if I was a really awful person, I'd just randomly kill him in all of the options, but I try not to, fer plot purpose. Like, I should just kill him off in P, but it doesn't look like it's gonna be that way... Yet. But thank you fer reviewing, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Not sure which all options yer reading at this point. XP"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

There's no time for us.

There's no place for us.

What is this thing that builds our dreams,

Yet slips away from us?

There's no chance for us.

It's all decided for us.

This world has only one sweet moment,

Set aside for us.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10 - Just Behind Me<strong>

* * *

><p>Just as I've put in the latest batch of whole wheat bread, I hear a loud smash from outside, startling me from closing the oven door.<p>

I pull the mittens off and walk to the door, peer out and then open it to give greeting to Clayton, "Hey, are you okay?"

Clayton, to his best effort, tries to search about for the broken potted plant on the ground, "I'm sorry, Peeta. I didn't mean to break the daffodils."

"How do you know what you broke?" I ask, smiling and moving his hands from them to stop him from getting cut up.

"I can smell them," He says, smiling, "I'm sorry."

"It's no problem," I clean the mess away and chuck the broken pot into a trash pile nearby of rubble, "I'll just have to go out and get more. What are you doing over here this early?"

Clayton turns to me, almost looking directly into my eyes, he's pretty convincing, "Well, it's Mila's birthday today."

"Is it?" I raise my brow, "Do you want me to make her a cake?"

"Could you?" Clayton asks, sounding excited, "I mean, she's too shy to ask herself. So I figured I would."

"It's no problem," I open the door to him, "Come on in and we'll talk logistics."

Clayton smiles wide, the blue eyes shock me sometimes in contrast to his dark skin, "Sounds good," his feet step forward hesitantly, feeling out the concrete until he's up, inside the warmth of the house.

I close the door behind him and reach forward, "I'll get your coat."

"Thanks," He gladly takes it off, moving further into the kitchen and sitting down on one of the stools.

"What kind of cake do you want it to be?"

"Vanilla," Clayton says, looking around for me.

"Icing?" I ask, walking up and sitting beside him.

"Well, she's not a big fan of icing, but other people are, I wasn't sure what to do about that."

At the comment, I am immediately struck with an idea, I don't say it, but I allow the thought to grow while I ask him more, "What's her favorite thing? Animal? Plant?"

Clayton, smiling at a me that's just an inch or so off, answers simply, "I don't know about those things, but she really likes ribbons, and curls. Can you work with that?"

"Easily," I respond, standing up and grabbing my sketch book, "And what is her favorite color?"

"Baby blue," Clayton says, the same silly smile playing out, "Sort of... Soft, I think? Like feathers or something. I don't really know it that well."

Because he's been blind his whole life, Clayton has never seen colors, but the wording of it that he's given me is perfect to imagine.

I pull the gentle blue colored pencil from it's box and begin to sketch out the lining of the cake I'm working on in my mind.

Clayton, then, grows so silent that I could've forgotten he was even there. He just sits, staring off into space, listening to me. He's silent enough that I hear the other people talking just outside about moving rubble around.

I'm nearly done when Clayton says something that surprises me.

"You're really patient."

I look up from the sketch book, "I am? You've been sitting there."

Clayton smiles at my joke and shrugs, "Not that kind of patient. But, don't you ever wonder what's happening with the war?"

"No." I respond immediately.

Clayton, to his credit, doesn't take offense, "You're just waiting to find out the end result. It's like you don't even know if it's over or not."

"It doesn't really matter," I say, finishing the cake drawing, "At this point, there's nothing I can do, nothing I really care about."

"You care about Katniss."

"And Katniss is dead," I look up at him and his eyebrows rise.

"See what I mean?" Clayton says, eyes distant, but saddening with something that looks close enough to pity, it could be, "You don't even know that she's alive."

This causes my hand to still and my entire system of organs to lurch nervously, "What?"

Clayton nods, eyes watering just a little, "She's alive. Katniss was there at the end of the war, in the center of the Capitol. There was some explosion, from what I've heard."

"Is she alright?" I ask, and even though I swear I've moved on, accepted that she was gone, it causes fear in me, "You said she was alive, she still is, right?"

"She is, I think. She was really badly burned, from what I heard on the tv," Clayton comments while I feel everything numbing over, "She was burned from the fires in the explosion."

This causes me to start thinking. _What about Snow? Is he still alive? And what about Gale?_

"Clayton," I whisper.

Clayton, though, hears me clearly, and reaches out, "Are you okay, Peeta?"

"I'm fine, could you..." I take a breath and stand up, "I'll make the cake, but I could use some... Some space, if you don't mind."

He nods and stands up, "Sure, I understand. I'll see myself out."

I watch him carefully as he leaves, hesitantly taking the steps outside the door until he's gone.

Once he is, I lock the door and move back to the stove, pulling out supplies to prepare Mila's birthday cake.

The entire time, my hands shake, lips pressed tight as I struggle to keep the thoughts from roaming and taking over.

_It's too late now Peeta, far too late now to worry about her. There's no point in it. She's lost now._

It's not worth thinking about possibilities. Even if she's alive, she doesn't really know who I am. And, if it says anything about who she's become,_ she clearly doesn't give a shit about me._

_She's forgotten everything about me that ever mattered._

So why can't I stop thinking that I should turn on the tv, just in case they air something about her?

_No._

_Don't touch that thing._

_It's best to just stick through this and ignore it. _It would only open wounds, turning the tv on.

I watch my fingers grip the edge of the stove when the feelings suddenly become far too much to bare, the tears burn down my cheeks, causing my head to ache and face to heat up.

My entire body starts shaking, sobs choking out, I curl up against the corner of the counter and cry loudly.

I try not to let her bother me, I've tried time and again to just forget she's gone. I don't know if this pain is from comfort in knowing she's alive, or fear that she's been harmed.

It could be from thinking that I've failed in trying to get over her.

* * *

><p>Once I've finished up the cake, the nearly naked surface of the vanilla dessert covered in spots and sections by gentle ribbons and bows of soft blue, I set it out on the counter to breathe.<p>

After putting a glass cover over it, I take from the house and make my way into town, looking around at the working crews coming back from their lunches. Annie is most likely setting back out to pick more herbs on the other side of the fence, Mila is probably with her, and most likely with the crew from the distribution area.

I've only just reached the apothecary building, it's gentle puffs of smoke billowing forth from the chimney, the darkened windows ominous, and the vast array of plants and gardens around the doorway glistening lively from yesterdays shower, when the door opens and Katniss's mother stretches out her hand to motion me in.

She's dressed in her simple, worn robes, blond hair pinned tight to her head, face wrought with worry lines and eyes more tired than I've ever seen them before.

"I don't know if I have time, Celeste," I say, struggling against her.

She puts her finger to her mouth and motions me to come inside at once. I've never seen Katniss's mother looks so completely serious before, so I shut my lips tight and walk inside. The smell that pierces my nose causes my eyes to water.

"Celeste," I start to complain but she shushes me again.

Laying on the old, flat beds that are normally reserved for patients are three of the team that get sent out daily to pick herbs.

Annie and Mila are two of them.

My stomach twists and I move forward but Celeste holds me back, fingers squeezing my arm.

"Are they alright?"

Katniss's mother gives me a wide birth, stepping forward to Annie and taking the cloth from the pale girl's forehead, "It's hard to say at this point. They're both so..." She's whispering, but she looks up at me and says as softly as possible: "They're both so weak right now. I'm not sure. But the herb that I need is actually out there. They don't go out that far, so I don't keep supplies of it."

"How far?" I ask immediately.

"There's this lake," Celeste starts to say, but I interrupt.

"The one that Katniss's father use to go out to? The one with her plants?"

Celeste nods and places a new, wet towel on Annie's sweated brow and I see the girl wince at the motion.

"Prim wasn't with them," I ask, "Was she?"

"No, she's with one of the work crews today."

"Can I?" I start to move forward but Celeste raises a hand, "Don't wake her."

"I won't," I reassure, stretching out my arm to rest on Annie's stomach, "Just tell me what the plant is and I'll go out and get it."

Katniss's mother looks unsure, "The creature that did this is still out there."

"What did it do?" I ask, "What is it?"

She shakes her head, "You shouldn't go out there, if it gets you too, we could lose you as well, these two, it's–"

"I'm going, Celeste," I raise my voice and she tries to shush me back down so I whisper, "Whether you like it or not, but I'd like to go out there knowing what I'm looking for."

Celeste nods finally and moves to the book that Katniss had made, I can see, very clearly, that it's more worn than usual.

Some of the pages have been bent and there's dirt over it.

"It's a muttation, like a black furred dog," Celeste says, going through the pages, "With a red line down it's spine. Peeta," She looks up at me through her bangs, "You shouldn't go alone."

"Yes I should," I respond, "Another person would slow me down. Don't tell anyone, alright? I'll get the herb. What's it look like?"

Celeste shows me the image, an unimpressive, ground grown plant that sits close against the grass, a soft brown sack with green leaves curling out of the stem. It could be an eggplant, but Celeste whispers: "Be careful when you pick them, they're very squishy and delicate. Don't squeeze them too tight or they'll pop. And they grow near the rocky edge of the pond, along the side, like vines."

I nod, tossing Annie's bag from the counter over my shoulder and taking to the door, "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Peeta."

I stop and turn back as Celeste moves close, grabbing my arm in concern, "Yeah?"

She stares up into my eyes, "Take one of Katniss's bows, would you?"

In her other hand is the weapon mentioned before and she gives it over with a quiver of arrows, then she takes up the dagger hanging on the back of the door and gives it to me as well, "If you see the mutt, it could probably stand to... Not do this again."

I nod in agreement, lean down and kiss her forehead before leaving the house.

Quickly, I make my way through the side alleys, avoiding people, cleaners, and... perhaps especially, Clayton.

_If I can get back before him, he won't even have to worry. He really shouldn't have to, he's been through enough. _I feel guilty about not seeing him, but I'd rather not worry the guy, _considering that it's his sister's birthday today._

It's only just one in the afternoon, I have enough time to get this done.

I'd dressed casual for today, but at least I was practical when I put on my boots and wore the dark black jeans and green button up. It makes things easy to pass by in the forest without getting caught or clipped.

Passing over the stickers and brush, the wilderness thickens with every minute that goes by. And the air has just the softest of bites to it, nearly winter.

The Mockingjays of the area attempt a tune while I walk, whispering out the song that Katniss's father, Oeric, would sing so often. _Apparently one he sang more than I knew._

Far enough into the forest that if I look back, I couldn't begin to guess how far it is from the fence. Deep, past where they dare to go and pick herbs. Far past that, now.

It feels just like the arena out here, just like the violence, the fear of something unknown.

_I've never been out here alone._

_I've never been beyond the gate without Katniss, at all._

And it still feels like she's walking just behind me, like she's treading so quietly, so predatorily, ready for anything, ready for everything. Even Gale had that feeling to him. Their feet know leaves better than mine do. I use to be loud at it though, I'd like to think I've gotten better at keeping quiet and unknown.

As my mind brings me back through the memories I've spent with her out here, remembering her first hunting trip with me, as she taught me about being aware, being ready, I'm reminded that I've left myself open.

"_Don't leave your hands empty when you come in here," She whispered before we passed the fence, "Something could take you by surprise. It's happened before."_

"_Before?"_

The sweat on my hands makes them feel unfamiliarly empty out here now.

"_Think about the arena," Katniss's hand takes mine and puts the unsheathed dagger against my palm, "Would you ever walk around there unarmed?"_

"_No," I respond, "The second you drop your guard–"_

"_The next second, you're dead," She says, stoically._

She is right here, I swear she is. I swear that she's walking right behind me. _And she's calling me an idiot for coming into this place without the dagger in my hand, at least. _Because, if we had had the bow and arrows before we came in, the first time, we'd definitely have had them gripped tight, instead of just our daggers to keep us comfortable.

And here I am, my dagger pocketed, my bow on my shoulder, my palms bare to the wind. I'm empty-handed.

I hear her stop behind me, breathing just loud enough to touch my ears, reminding me that I'm not alone in the forest. That I may have forgotten my weapons, but she hasn't. She never does. She always has to remind me that I'm forgetting something.

Only, _Katniss shouldn't be here._

Turning around, I'm frozen in my tracks at the sharp, intense, angry eyes that meet mine. They aren't storm gray, though. The eyes, cold and black, stare in curiosity, more intelligent than any creature has right to be.

The short cut fur as dark as night, and my eyes widen on the long red stripe running down it's spine.

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to read P, now up on the site! And review? ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	43. Chapter 10 OPTD: The People of Adler

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**If you STILL haven't submitted a character yet fer the Option D board, or just a random person, feel free to do so, YOU STILL CAN. If you want ANOTHER, that's cool too. You can also submit people from the other Districts, runaways.**

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry it took ferever to get this chapter out, blame it on TristAn.

The flight went well, the ride home went well, settling in has been pretty good so far. But I'm going to have to force TristAn into some kind of schedule, because he barely gives me time to write.

He's normally demanding to do something, watch something, play something, or he'll just sit there and watch me, or try talking to me. XP The guy doesn't know how much time I demand fer iuno... Writing?

I haven't even been able to do much fer OS. Because he's been up my ass.

I, however, have played through all of Mass Effect 1 a second time, because my old saves were lost, and I'm almost finished with Mass Effect 2.

I've gotten a few things done, but I'm going to try and continue updating this as often as possible. Hope you all are still enjoying all of the options, especially D, since it's the most original.

Until next time tho, keep read, keep enjoying, keep reviewing, and I love you all!

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Hannah: "B and C? That's pretty varied, are you reading all of them or just the two? XP And the P option is up on my site, www. KaKaVegeGurl . Com. It's easy enough to remember, eh? Glad yer enjoying!"

Charlotte: "LOL, aww, ty ty so much! Omg, so blushing now. I'm glad you like, I really do try to make them more like REAL people. XP It's hard to respond when yer anony, and you ask when the next update will be, but here it is!"

**Side Notes:**

"I've seen better days."

So says the mirror.

It's hard to find divinity,

When you're the king of men.

If I can get through this,

I can get through anything.

If I can make it through this,

I can get through anything.

I promise you.

It could be much worse,

But the call is close.

Tomorrow's my reason for today to let go.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10 - The People of Adler<strong>

* * *

><p>Katniss, though a normally impatient person, sits still and collected while the doctor looks her over, checks her stomach and treks through multiple scans of the baby.<p>

She's remaining calm on the outside, but her hand hasn't left mine since we took our seats three hours ago.

The meeting with the board ended with my words, more or less, and now they've gone into a deep discussion over the methods of war and getting involved with the upper world. Ben advised us to use the free time to have Katniss looked over and to take a trip around the Adler underground, visit the multiple labs of their professions.

He said that it has chances of taking anywhere from an hour or so, to more than a day.

The doctor, sitting patiently beside me, has a few tools set out over a small table, staring silently; brooding. The folder in her hands, just given to her by a nurse, would be foreboding if she wasn't smiling just slightly.

"Everything seems fine," She says calmly, "Did you want to know the gender?"

As Katniss and I are staring into each other's eyes, we see the recognition in one another and then turn together to look at the doctor. My own are wide, Katniss's as well.

"Gender?" I ask, feeling my hands become numb.

The doctor nods and smiles, "Some parents like to be surprised. Do you want to know?"

I look back at Katniss and she smiles, nodding, then I turn to the doctor, "Yes."

"It's a boy," She says, calm and observing.

Katniss's fingers tighten and I feel light-headed from the news._ A boy. A perfect little boy. Our boy._

"He's healthy, very healthy," The doctor says, closing the folder and handing it to me, "Everything is fine, as far as I can tell."

There's a knock at the door and she turns to answer it, Oeric stands at it, calm, broad grin shaping his features.

"It's gonna be a while longer," He says to Katniss and I, "A lot longer. But things look good so far. Ben and a few others are still very adamant about your side of the argument, Peeta. You did good raising their awareness of the inhumanities instead of the fear."

"Thank you, sir," I feel my cheeks shade over, bowing my head to him.

"Oeric," he quickly corrects.

"It's a boy," Katniss says suddenly and Oeric beams, arms crossed over his chest but cheerful as ever.

His large chest puffs out proudly as his eyes meet mine, honestly happy for us, "Did you two want to go out, get some air? See a few of the labs?"

"Sounds good," I say, helping Katniss up, "You're gonna be our tour guide?"

"Sure am," and he leads us from the room.

* * *

><p>I can't begin to imagine how deep Adler goes, or how wide it reaches, but from what I've seen so far, it's large. Much bigger than District 12. It makes 12 look like a one week old infant in comparison to the Earth.<p>

The first lab we come to consists of multiples, some added on over time, and it's a large round dome, created specifically for climate control.

It's the alchemist lab, the containment of plant and bug life, as well as medicines and health food production. Oeric tells us that most spices and food additions are grown in it.

The lab crew all wear a soft shade of dark green, sort of mossy looking, gentle, to represent their productivity line.

With the board still in their meeting, the leaders of each production line are busy, but we're greeted by a few of the seconds, to make up for lost knowledge.

In a way or two, the labs remind me of the districts. But I was surprised that, within just the first minutes of visiting the alchemy lab, I met maybe a handful of the engineers group, some of the agricultures, a few military personal, and a guy from the medical lab we were at for Katniss's scans and checkups.

They weren't just around for leisure either_, they were involved._

The first woman we met explained that: "fairly often, the other teams come in, take a look around, help out or give advice." None of the groups are really separate and they all work together as a large team.

If only the above world would take a few pages from these people's books. _They might learn a thing or two._

I wasn't the only one asking questions though. They probably asked just as many questions back as I did to them, anything from lifestyles in the districts, to common belief systems and laws.

After seeing the general state of their vast labs, the technology advancements made in the hospital tests and machinery, and also the healthy bulk of their alchemy area, I started to wonder just how these people even thought we could help with whatever the muttation had done to their group above ground.

So I asked and they explained that, though they've advanced, there's a certain confusion of the muttations that they aren't bold enough to look into.

One of the men in the engineering labs mentioned that to mix two creatures, or to change their structure, was abnormal, almost terrifying. It's something they've never seen before._ It's something that they don't want to see._

Katniss finally turns to me and suggests we take a look at the infected people. Nearly mid-way through the day, and we take a soft, almost weightless ride from the entertainment labs.

The new place we come into is a part of the medical facilities, but it's blocked off and requires special permission to be accessed.

Laciel, the woman with the scarred eye, is standing just by the door; waiting for us.

She was suppose to be in the board meeting, but she quickly explains it away.

"My decision is obvious," She says softly, "It's not going to change. And I think I speak for everyone when I say that finding a possible cure to this muttation is more necessary at the current moment."

Katniss agrees from beside me and Laciel holds her hand out.

"We haven't been properly introduced," She says, "I'm Laciel Eve. It's nice to meet you two."

"Peeta Mellark," I shake her hand and then she takes Katniss's.

"Katniss," She says, grinning, "Mellark, obviously."

Laciel nods and opens the door for us, giving a glance back before joining us inside.

Just in the entrance it looks spotless, walls high and sounds dulled. It could easily be the waiting room, it's not even daunting of the insides, the people's pain contained, the obvious panic coming from the front desk clerk.

She nods in notion to Laciel and lets us pass by without question.

"Right this way," Laciel says, opening another door and we follow through a few of them, getting deeper into the facility.

Katniss gives me a wide-eyed look when we've passed through the fifth, a large set of security doors that requires Laciel's finger prints, something with her eye, and her voice as well, before it opens and we're brought into a containment room, cells along the side of the walls.

The first five or so have people in them, some strapped down, some being checked on. Large machines line the backs, connected to the victims.

The two people in the closest cells are out cold, being checked on by multiple doctors, the second cell on the right is being sterilized and the girl on it's bed is obviously dead, her skin dark and black, almost completely.

Laciel shakes her head, "She passed away earlier, I suppose. She was so weak."

"It's only contagious through fluids, right?" Katniss asks from my side, "We can't catch it through the air, or tending to them?"

"Right," Laciel confirms, "But as far as we know, there's no known cure."

Katniss motions to the first room, "Can I observe?"

"By all means, an outside opinion is always welcome."

"Can I go in there?"

Laciel looks at me first, then to Katniss and nods, "If you want to risk it."

"Why not?" Katniss shrugs, "I've been in the arenas twice, what else is a little muttation virus?" She walks to the door of the cell and allows herself in, joining the two doctors on the other side.

"What about the muttation?" I ask, joining Laciel as she looks on, "If it gets more people, this could be a really ugly virus to be spreading."

"What do you suggest?" Laciel turns to me, "We've already lost so many, Nor was the only capable survivor."

"And he's gone," I nod, "Did he say what it looked like?"

Laciel's eyes narrow and she answers: "Large, loud, violent. It doesn't go for stealth. But their guns didn't have time to do any considerable damage. It may not be a quiet monster, but it still took them by surprise. And it's fast."

"Doesn't sound like they were having a good day," I observe and Laciel shakes her head.

"Most certainly not."

Katniss, in the room now, has her hand pressed to the sick's head, peering into his eyes, checking his mouth.

Laciel smiles to herself as she watches, "Smart girl, how long has she been healing?"

"Healing?" I ask, "Katniss? No. Her mother and sister were the healers, or so she claims. But she's good at it too, she's just too stubborn to notice."

"I can tell, she's good," Laciel says as Katniss checks the palms and nails of the person, "She should go into it more, there's potential she's not tapping into."

"She's more of a hunter, honestly."

Violent gasping sounds from behind us and one of the machines, the heart monitor, starts to sky rocket.

Katniss looks up and Laciel and I turn around to watch the three doctors struggling to stabilize the victim as he thrashes around. Everything's reduced to chaos when his heart gives out. Katniss joins us outside the cell again as the doctors calm and one of them shakes his head, his eyes meeting Laciel's and he shakes it again.

"They're dropping," She says.

Katniss looks at me and I feel her fingers take mine, "I've seen something like this before. Not exactly this, but his pupils, and the color of their gums. They need medicine."

"What kind?"

"From the snakes that bite them," Katniss says and my stomach lurches.

"From the beast," I continue.

Laciel looks between us and shakes her head, "That's impossible to ask, they couldn't kill it, let alone get the venom from it's bite."

"It doesn't have to be alive," Katniss observes, watching the man she just came from, "But it does have to be dead. There's no other way without heavy casualties."

"What you're already suggesting will have heavy casualties," Laciel responds, "We can't do it, it's two risky."

Katniss frowns, "Then you kill these people. And anymore that bump into that thing. Other people from districts are at risk as well. There's no telling the death toll that's already mounting. It has to be taken care of."

"We _can't_."

Katniss looks at me and nods, "Then _we _will."

Laciel's eyes widen even more, "No, we can't let you out there, you're pregnant."

"I'm here of my own free will, are you going to argue that?" Katniss challenges, "Peeta?"

"I'm with you," I concur, "You know that already."

She smiles wide, "Let's get going, the faster we're set up, the faster this creature is dead, and the less people die. Win win."

"What weapons are you going to use?" Laciel asks as we make our way from the facilities, out of the doors we came from.

"Bows and arrows, of course."

"You could probably use a stronger bow," the doctor says, following me. "Let's go to the armory at least, I'm sure there's something stronger than what you brought with you, please. At least give me that reassurance."

Katniss stops at my side and turns back to look at Laciel, eyebrow raised, but she's obviously already given in, "Alright. I'll see, but that doesn't mean I'm taking anything else."

"That creature withstood bullets, why do you think arrows would be best suited?"

"Because I'm better with them."

Laciel nods and heads us through the underground of Adler until we reach the military building, a large, dark structure with a group of young people outside playing around.

For a place of weapons, it's calmed at the entrance. The kids around, maybe a year or two younger than me, most of them, seem to be playing some sort of tag. They have guns that don't look like they're doing harm, just freezing the enemy in place.

The other team mates, of the blue and red teams, duck behind their own frozen team mates for cover, and to get better shots at the opposition.

A girl, the last on the blue team, aims two blows at twin red members and freezes them both. She's wearing a loose outfit, long black, baggy pants, and a tight shirt. The gun held to her chest is obviously worn down from use and she moves around her frozen team mates in such a way that suggests she's been doing this a long time.

However, on the front of her shirt, is the emblem of District 13.

Katniss watches her as close as I am as she takes on the last four red members until they're completely defeated.

The group is released and the observing adult comes down from his watch point and pins something to the girl's belt; it joins the group of other, similar badges.

"Laciel," He says finally, saluting the board member and looking at Katniss and I, "These are the two from District 12? Oeric's daughter and her husband?"

"How do you know about us?" Katniss asks, as surprised as I am.

"News travels," the man says, "Everyone is friends with Oeric, do you think he'd actually be able to keep quiet about his **daughter**? Katniss Everdeen, it's nice to meet you, I'm Glisten, originally from District 1."

"Katniss Mellark, now," Katniss nods and shakes hands with him.

"And you're?" He asks, looking at me.

"Peeta Mellark," I take his hand as well, as the District 13 girl crosses her arms, watching us, "You're good," I say to her, "But you're from 13, how long have you been here?"

The girl looks surprised, looking down at her shirt and then smiling, "About ten years."

"Didn't like 13?" Katniss guesses.

"That sterile copy capital? No," the girl frowns and shakes her head, "Who would? I ran away before they could force me into anything more. You two been there?"

I watch the lazy stance of hers, how comfortable she is, directly the opposite of the people of 13, "Yeah, kind of the same thing, I guess. It's not the kind of place I'd choose to live."

"Or did," The girl says and then motions to Katniss, "You're pregnant, I didn't expect that. But it's nice to see happy people coming from there, I guess."

Katniss's hand rubs over her stomach as she stares, "Probably not anymore."

"I heard, capitol bombing. Maybe they managed to do something write and take out Coin for us."

I can't help but raising my eyebrow at the cold comment, "So, you knew Coin? Apparently you liked her just as much as we did."

"Less, I imagine," The girl says, frowning, "My name is Tooney, I'm her daughter."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I love you guys so much thanks fer all of the love back! Review until Option A Chapter 11?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	44. Chapter 11 OPTA: Katniss

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

This is an abnormally long chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it. And I'm sorry fer the hella late update.

So has anyone seen the second trailer of HG? If not, go look now. It's good stuff.

And how about that Glee? The whole Blaine/eye thing really made me sad (tho e'll be a great gay pirate). Stupid Sebastian, what an ass. TristAn enjoyed the MJ tho, that's one of his faves.

And we're almost done with BSG too. XP Just plowing through serieses.

Also, Option P will be coming out some time in the next few days, so look forward to that as well. I'll link it on my twitter. Other than that, nothing unusual or important. Just chilling here in Canada.

I'll see you all soon! Read on, enjoy, and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Hannah: "B and C? That's pretty varied, are you reading all of them or just the two? XP And the P option is up on my site, www. KaKaVegeGurl . Com. It's easy enough to remember, eh? Glad yer enjoying!"

Charlotte: "LOL, aww, ty ty so much! Omg, so blushing now. I'm glad you like, I really do try to make them more like REAL people. XP It's hard to respond when yer anony, and you ask when the next update will be, but here it is!"

Chrissy: "I definitely enjoyed having Tooney along fer it, she really just sort of happened (she might be sort of happening elsewhere, as well). But I'm glad that yer liking D. It's the most original, so I love hearing about you guys reading it. Thanks fer sticking it out! The next D is going to be awesome."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

You sure looked defeated,

When you came home tonight.

I know that you're discouraged, and tired of the fight.

Sometimes it gets so hard,

That you don't know what to do,

If you close your eyes, the truth is there for you.

Listen to your heart,

It knows right from wrong.

Let it guide you.

Listen to your heart,

It will make you strong.

Look inside of yourself,

And listen,

Listen to your heart.

There are so many temptations,

In the crazy world today.

And there are so many people tryin' to lead you astray.

Whenever you're confused,

About all the things you see.

You can't tell a friend,

From the enemy.

Listen to your heart, it knows right from wrong, let it guide you.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 - <strong>_**Katniss**_

* * *

><p>"Have you eaten?" Katniss whispers to me in the darkness as she watches over the group.<p>

I haven't been able to sleep, or even think much since Boggs was killed, not without thinking about the gore, and that horrible vision of me, jumping in to attack Katniss. The wild, uncontrolled, rage-filled look in my eyes.

I haven't been able to really think much beyond that since we left the apartments.

But, trying to hide the emotions, the fear from her, I shake my head honestly._ She doesn't have to know. She's worried about enough as it is._

Katniss picks up a can, opens it, and hands it over to me.

I don't even bother to see what it is before I tip it back and eat most of the contents within two gulps.

"Peeta," Katniss asks suddenly and I pull the can back down to look at her, "When you asked about what happened to Darius and Lavinia, and Boggs told you it was real, you said you thought so. Because there was nothing shiny about it. What did you mean?"

"Oh," I say before I can stop myself, force my mind to ignore the grimy details, "I don't know exactly how to describe it. In the beginning, everything was just complete confusion. Now, I can sort certain things out. I think there's a pattern emerging."

Katniss raises a brow and I continue, "The memories they altered with the tracker jacker venom have this strange quality about them. Like they're too intense or the images aren't stable. You remember what it was like when we were stung?"

"Trees shattered," She responds, eyes wide, "There were giant colored butterflies. I fell in a pit of orange bubbles... Shiny orange bubbles."

"Right. But nothing about Darius or Lavinia was like that."

"Well, that's good, isn't it? If you can separate the two, then you can figure out what's true."

I shrug in response, "Yes. And if I could grow wings, I could fly. Only, people can't grow wings. Real or not real?"

"Real. But people don't need wings to survive."

"Mockingjays do," I respond quickly before polishing off the can of chicken and rice soup, "You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real?"

"Real," She responds quickly, without a moments hesitation to think it over, "Because that's what you and I do. It's what we've always done. We protect each other."

Katniss reaches out to me then, fingers touching my own hand in my lap, gripping onto the pearl still, and I open it for her. She picks it up silently, looking over it's smooth, clean surface.

I move forward, following her eyes as they meet with mine before I'm pressing my lips to hers, mouth opening to catch her gasp of surprise.

Her lips move against mine, accepting, and her left hand clasps into the hair on the back of my neck before I break the kiss and sit back down once more, leaving the pearl in her palm and she smiles, breathless, staring down at it before pocketing the gem.

She reaches out then and touches my cheek gently, "You look tired, you should get some more sleep."

I nod, taking her hand in mine before laying back down and closing my eyes, "Wake me up if something happens, alright?"

"Always," She responds as I begin to force myself into sleep.

* * *

><p>I'm surrounded by bodies.<p>

A few of them, tossed down into the pile at my feet just now, twist and writhe in pain. Their broken limbs flail about and their mouths open, trying to scream.

I walk forward, I try to reach down to help them but before I can, I stop in shock at the sight of my fingers.

Covered in blood, torn flesh buried under the fingernails.

In the corner of my eye, I see a shadow lurch forward, glaring, slithering around and hissing, it's teeth bared to me and it throws another body onto the piles of wounded, sobbing people.

Long black, braided hair, arms and legs tangled together as her back bends out, bowing until it snaps in half.

"Katniss!" I shout, moving to her, my own, both real legs start becoming engulfed in a sea of thick, syrupy blood. Arms stretch out from the surf, clinging at me to stop me from reaching Katniss.

A large bone heap lifts her from my grasp as she cries out in pain.

"Katniss!" I shout again but the shadowed creature, still by me, taunts a response of it's own.

"_Katniss_," it hisses back to me, claws stretching out to slice at my cheeks, "_Katniss_," it says again, "_Katniss, Katniss, Katniss_."

* * *

><p>"Katniss!" I scream suddenly, sitting up and eyes meeting her's immediately, "Get out of here!"<p>

Her shoulders and head shake in surprise at my sudden outburst, "Why?" She asks suspiciously, "What's making that sound?"

_Katniss..._

"I don't know. Only that it has to kill you. Run!" I shout, standing up and grabbing my pack, "Get out! Go!"

Katniss turns back to the others, "Whatever it is, it's after me. It might be a good time to split up."

"But we're your guard," Jackson argues.

"And your crew," Cressida supplies.

_Katniss..._

"I'm not leaving you."

Katniss's eyes meet mine before she says: "Give me your gun."

I hand it over and she pulls the blanks from it, slapping in a cartridge of real bullets and handing it over to Pollux before turning to Finnick, "Give Castor one of those." Then she passes her own gun to Cressida, "Gale, Messalla."

He nods and does as she says immediately.

"This is the trigger," Katniss demonstrates to Cressida, who holds the gun with wide eyes. Katniss takes her arms, "Aim with your eye, level it here, do you got that?"

Cressida nods nervously, "I think so."

"We don't have much more time," Jackson says.

We begin through the tunnels again, traveling quickly, eyes watching our feet and our surroundings as the sounds behind us slowly grow louder.

I'm quicker than the rest of them, mostly due to the lack of a weapon, but I slow to allow Katniss time ahead of me.

The group stops when a new sound joins the chorus of sounds bouncing forth from the walls. Just the thought of it chills me to the marrow of my bones, brings flashes of blood and torture, and body parts.

"Avoxes," I whisper, struggling to keep my mind together, "That's what Darius sounded like when they were torturing him."

Katniss's hand grasps mine and our eyes meet.

"The mutts must've found them," Cressida says breathlessly.

"So they're not just after Katniss," Leeg 1 mumbles as the group starts back up at running speed again.

"They'll probably kill anyone," Gale says between breaths, "It's just that they won't stop until they get to her."

_Not if I can do something about it._

"_Katniss."_

"Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson," Katniss says, slowing down, "The rest of you can finish the mission."

"_Katniss."_

Jackson shoves her from behind to speed her back up again, "No one's going to agree to that!"

"We're wasting time!" Finnick shouts suddenly.

"Listen," I say softly, holding my hand up to quiet them all. There's silence then, from them, from our feet, from the Avoxes, and the voice comes again.

"_Katniss."_

We start running again together, Katniss nudging Pollux before she slows down, starts coughing, hand reaching up to her throat.

"Masks on!" Jackson shouts to the rest of us, and I'm about to when I see Katniss stepping out, onto smooth, orange and pink pastel colored tiles.

She pulls up her bow and blows up a nearby pod that oozes out little muttation rats.

We follow after her as the group wanders wearily over the tiles, guns up and eyes glancing around at other pods as they're destroyed.

"Stay with me!" Katniss shouts back to us.

Messalla, just an arms distance from me, steps over a tile and gasps lightly in shock as a beam of light engulfs him, lifting him ever slightly off of the ground.

"Katniss!" Finnick shouts and she turns back to look at us as Messalla's eyes widen, neck arching, arms spreading out as his skin starts to melt.

"We have to move," I say to everyone as they stare in shock, "Move guys. We can't help him! We can't!"

They all start moving slowly, the group finally turning away from Messalla and rushing forward once more. Gun shots ring around us, biting out chunks of plaster from the roof above.

I turn back as a Finnick and Cressida unload on a small pack of Peacekeepers. Then I stop in shock when my eyes fall over the new creatures coming into sight, the creatures from my dream, in mass.

White, long bodies in the shapes of people. Odd, tangled limbs with long claws and long, spiny tails. Their necks stretch out far, backs at an odd arch as they tear into the Peacekeepers.

"This way!" Katniss shouts, grabbing my arms and shoving the group against the wall.

Jackson moves along it just behind me as Katniss takes up lead, shooting the tile of an intersection we pass with her gun just before a pod is activated. It comes up from the ground, eating through tile and spinning violently around.

"Forget the mission," Katniss says suddenly, "What's the quickest way aboveground?"

I hear Jackson just behind me as she turns back to Leeg 1 and says: "Let's stay back, maybe we can hold off any of the mutts that spill through that thing."

Homes walks up to them as Leeg 1 nods to him, "You go on, we've got this."

"Take this," Jackson says, pulling her necklace up and handing it over to him, "You watch over them, alright? Go on now. Peeta, you too."

I nod, eyes meeting her's and there's a moment of recognition in her eyes, she doesn't expect to make it through alive. _At all._

"I won't forget this," I tell her as Homes goes on ahead again.

"You better not," She says, smiling wide, "Now go," and she turns, pulling up her gun as the first muttation hits the grinder head on, "Go! We got this!"

_Her fault._

_**It's always been her fault, Peeta...**_

I run after Homes, following numbly as the blood splattering from the muttation jars memories in my head.

I'm just barely aware of Katniss asking back for Leeg 1 and Jackson, of Homes telling her about their sacrifice. I'm less aware as the muttations begin to leak in, begin to dot my vision.

_**All of this is... If only you listened to me...**_

_No._

_They're everywhere. They're on the walls._

Katniss, standing near me, staring out at the expanse of white bodies closing in as she fires arrow after arrow at them.

_**Remember though? The lies? "Session fifteen, Katniss Everdeen."**__**All of this is because of her, Peeta. "You'll fall for anything I say. Because you're weak, you're a fool."**_

_No, these aren't right._

I see the group moving towards a ladder, yelling to Katniss and I run over, grabbing her up from her spot, putting her bow back on her shoulder and shoving her against the ladder, keeping her there until she begins to climb. Her arms and legs are as shaky as mine as we make our way up.

We reach the second ladder and I look back as the muttations snatch Finnick from the line, as he shoves against them, thrusting his trident into one of their throats, ripping the muscle and tissue free.

"_I'm fighting for you now. I haven't given up."_

"_**You didn't plan to go through with it."**__**If he dies, Peeta. It's her fault. Just like Portia.**_

"_I don't want to see that happen to you all. I don't think I could bare it."_

Finnick slams his gun into another and releases a duo of bullets into it's skull.

_**Remember Lavinia?**_

"_**Lavinia! You're life means something to me!" That was all her fault. You, we, were subjected to that, because of her.**_

_No, not real._

_**Not real? That happened, you know it.**_

"Finnick," I shout back as Gale and him struggle against the muttations.

"Go, Peeta," Finnick shouts back, blood on his lips, pleading eyes meeting mine, "Go! Please!"

_**And Darius? "He's not just some animal, he's a person! You can't do this."**_

I turn, unable to do anything, and take the ladder after Katniss. My arms shake violently as I make my way up, as I rush from the few people we have left and shove myself into a corner, feeling the edges of everything begin to blacken.

"_Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity."_

_**That was before, though. When you trusted her. She's been lying to you all along!**_

"-eeta..."

_She hasn't been lying. She's telling the truth._

_**Not real.**_

_Real!_

Katniss's soft, shaking hands touch mine and pull them down from my face, I haven't realized that I've been covering my eyes, and I look up to her.

"Peeta," she says, her voice cutting through the violence.

_**Kill her. Kill her for Portia and Lavinia, and Darius.**_

_No._

_**Kill her, now!**_

"Peeta?" She asks nervously, eyes traveling over my face before staring deep into mine.

"Leave me," I hiss between my teeth, struggling to stop them from clattering against one another as my mind pulses over again. My heart pounding, speeding up.

_**No, kill her! Just do it, she deserves it.**_

_No, she... She deserves it._

I try to pull away from her but there's nothing I can do to make distance, I'm cornered, "I can't hang on."

"Yes. You can!"

_**Yes, you can. It's easy, she's not even paying attention, she won't expect it.**_

"I'm losing it, Katniss," I struggle to explain out loud, "I'll go mad,"_ you're already going mad_, "Like them."

_**Go mad, do it. Kill her, Peeta, before you lose your chance. This could be the only time we can reach her like this. She's so vulnerable.**_

_She's... She's vulnerable._

_**Kill her! Do it, do it, Peeta. Kill her.**_

_Do it!_

_**KILL HER!**_

_Kill her!_

Katniss moves forward before I can respond, her lips pressing to mine, her hands clasping my palms together around the pearl she places in them and the voices... _silence_.

Her mouth parts, tongue tracing my lips gently and I kiss back.

_"I said: 'I love her', Haymitch. I love her."_

_I'll teach the Capitol, I'm not just a piece in their games. They don't own me._

"_I'm going to try and fight it as long as I can. There's nothing I can do, and it's no one's fault. It's getting harder and harder to come back from the stuff they pour in my mind."_

"_I trust you more than anyone, more than myself, sometimes. I know you're confused right now, it's reasonable. And I know that you need me, we kind of need each other. I can't have this disconnect between us. You're an amazing woman, you blow my mind half of the time. And that's both good and bad, for similar reasons. I love you. I love you more then I ever thought I could love anyone."_

"_I'm still here, Katniss. I'll always be here for you. There's no where I can go without being miserable, if you're not there."_

I grip the pearl tight with one hand and wrap the other around the back of her neck, drawing her close to me and finally breaking for air, pressing my forehead against her's.

"Don't let him take you from me," Katniss whispers breathlessly into my face.

"Not a chance," I tell her, opening my eyes to stare into her's.

She squeezes my hands then, "Stay with me."

"Always, Katniss."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	45. Chapter 11 OPTB: No Options

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hey hey everyone!

Back fer B? I'm sure quite a few people have been eagerly awaiting this update.

I'm going to go ahead and mention Tooney, so that yer all not completely surprised. I had to replace Gale since he's not in B, so Tooney has made an appearance. ^^

Sorry the update took long again, it's really hard to get into the motions here, but I think things will speed up soon.

Shit is kinda getting real in the options, at this point.

Tell me that everyone's been watching the new trailer and all of the shiny interviews? If you need them asap, they normally appear on my Tumblr.

Yes, I have a tumblr, you can find it easily via my website. ^^

Besides fer fanfic stuffs, I just finished Mass Effect 2 and started on Skyrim. Also just finished all of the newest BSG. _ I'm not sure what series we're watching next but you guys will be the first to know.

Oh, OH, NEWS! Will-bro, the famous Will-bro, IS PREGNANT! ^^ Yup yup. Real.

So umm, I hope you all continue reading, and enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it. Please continue on and may the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

They don't own me,

I'm not a piece in their games.

Can't control me.

They're the only ones to be blamed.

I'll never breakdown,

I won't give up this fight.

I'll give 'em nothing,

Nothing, nothing.

Cause this love is not a game to me.

We'll survive,

And start an uprising.

You can ignite,

Stand and fight,

Don't cave in.

So let's the games begin.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 - No Options<strong>

* * *

><p>We take up space to rest in another empty house a good distance away from the wave's damage on the first street.<p>

Upon entering, the group immediately starts a wide search through the building for food. There's boxes of these cream-filled cookies stored away in the side of one of the walls and an unhealthy supply of cans upon cans of various soups that we pile up and begin to eat through cold.

In our haste to fill our bellies, the tv screen in the main room lights up suddenly and startles us. Finnick, the closest to it, aims his gun immediately to shoot us back into silence, but Messalla forces him to put down his arm.

Katniss comes in and joins me on the couch, the rest of the team gathering around and taking seats to watch as the news report starts. It mentions Katniss and I, Finnick and Boggs by name, and then there's the destruction of the pods activation as it begins to roll the film collected from cameras on the streets during our panic struggles.

Bogg's mess of bloodied legs and remains, Katniss running to grab the Holo and return it to him so that he can give it to her, Jackson shouting and standing still with her communicator, trying to reach the camp, Finnick stepping on the stone that activates his trap.

I'm on the ground then, by his side at once, afraid, and then trying to rip him out of the wires as the wall advances on us.

Now though, I can see just how close it actually was to reaching us and obliterating Finnick and I. _It was horribly close. If I'd been slow, by just a few seconds._

You can also see, fairly clearly, that my arms aren't... _Normal_; and that I'm using my hands instead of a knife.

I wonder what Snow's thinking as he watches this video.

At the end of the news report, they pronounce us all dead._ It's good, it's more a good thing that everyone thinks we're dead than a bad thing._

"My father," Leeg 1 says from my right side, "He just lost my sister and now..." she grows silent again.

The footage finishes playing after a fourth or fifth time, when a video showing the rise of Katniss Everdeen begins to play out as well.

I can see my young, innocent self, standing in the crowd at the Reaping of District 12, waiting to be called, waiting for my entire life to change.

Katniss running up, hysterical and terrified, and volunteering over Prim; desperate to do anything to save her sister. Katniss singing to Rue in the games, crying into my shoulder as the little girl's body begins to grow cold.

Fighting against the rest of the Careers and almost being raped by... _By Cato._

I'd forgotten, probably only with the help of distractions or death and explosions lately, and the will of my own to move on despite countless struggles and loss.

But I'd forgotten about the rape images completely; only for a moment, and now I'm reminded of it all again. Reminded of punching Katniss in the mouth, shoving her around and seeing her blood on my hands, and forcing myself on her, over her, in her.

_But it wasn't me._

_It was–_something wet drips onto my hand, startling me from the horrible images of a wounded, beaten Katniss screaming for me to save her, screaming for me because I was the only thing able to stop Cato, and I look down.

I'm expecting tears at the most, which wouldn't make sense at all, even though my emotional state is heightened.

But it's blood, dripping down onto my hand again.

Katniss gasps suddenly from my side, probably having turned when I moved since I'd been sitting completely stock still before, and then she reaches out, puts her hand to my face immediately to catch anymore, and her eyes meet mine. "You're bleeding," She says, eyes wide, "Someone get a towel, quick!"

Finnick's the first up from his spot on the floor by the tv, running down the stairs, into the kitchen, and back to us in moments with a clean cloth that Katniss takes and brings up for me to hold. Her own hand is now red with my blood, the liquid spilling down between her fingers, along her forearm and dripping off her elbow, onto her pants.

The tv goes off finally and the room becomes a sort of silent panic as I continue bleeding into the towel, feeling it becoming damper in my hands.

"I'm fine," I argue as a few of them look at me warily and my own heart hammers nervously in the cavity of my chest.

"What should we do now?" Homes asks, trying to break the silence.

"We're rested enough, I think." Katniss says and stands up, looking at all of us. "Lets keep moving, there's no reason to stay here anymore."

* * *

><p>As we walk, climbing down into the tunnel system underneath Panem, Katniss takes to rubbing her palm over her stomach.<p>

It's a movement she gathered from carrying our baby, and, even though we don't have him anymore, I can tell that a part of her thinks the departure was too abrupt. She hasn't had enough time to break out of routines.

_Honestly, any departure from a child is abrupt, even if you're expecting it, _I think. But after everything we've been through, _I didn't expect it, still_.

Katniss's eyes are locked on the Holo as we make the swift trek through the tunnels, as we finally take some form of shelter after walking for hours, to rest and regroup.

Only now does she set it down and curl against my left peck, eager for sleep.

I sit awake though, unable, unwilling to rest. I'm exhausted, but I'm not tired. Everything is too terrifying and loud for me to sleep. _But I'd force Katniss to, if she wasn't so willing_. I wolf down a can of creamed rice and watch the Holo display as she drifts in and out, occasionally looking up at me, or glancing around herself, but eventually she passes out all together.

Hours drag slowly as I keep lookout with Finnick and Pollux.

Finnick sits close by and he's got Homes's first aid kit in his lap, slowly taking his time to clean the blood from his wounds. None of them seem too deep, save the one on his right shoulder blade, but he winces every time he starts on a new one.

Through the silence, he says: "Thank you, Peeta."

I nod as he finishes cleaning up the blood from his legs, "You would've done the same for me. Anytime, Finnick."

He smiles gratefully, the cuts and holes on his face twisting his features just slightly, and then he motions to Katniss, "How is she?"

"Scared," I answer honestly, "But that's normal."

"Normal?" Jackson asks suddenly from her perch near the door.

I look up at her, watch the dark expression flicker over her face, one that says 'how could she possibly know what being normally scared is like?'.

"Trust me," I say, raising my brows at her invitingly, "This may as well be a normal day for her."

Jackson turns away and I can see what looks like her rolling her eyes from the profile view.

Finnick pulls his rope from his pack and starts making knots.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Katniss gets up, despite my attempts for her to get some more rest.<p>

Jackson lays down without a word to her or I, and rolls over to sleep, facing away from us and her hands clasping tightly around her gun.

Finnick curls up as well, but not without a soft comment: "Wake me up if something happens. Night."

Katniss rolls her shoulders, sits up to stretch, and grabs a can of potato and bean stew from the supply of food, "Have you been up this whole time?" She asks through a sleepy, rasping throat as she opens the can and begins to eat.

I nod and watch her form the lid into a makeshift spoon.

"Get some sleep, Peeta," She says between mouthfuls, "You need it. I can stay up with Pollux."

"I'm fine," I whisper back, pulling close another can of creamed rice, "How did you sleep?"

"Surprisingly comfortable, who would've thought?"

Pollux sits nearby, still awake, his eyes wide and watching all around us as Katniss leans up and presses a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

We three sit comfortably in the silence of the underground after that, Katniss eating and looking over her Holo, browsing the area of pods and turns, crossroads and exits.

"Should we wake everyone and move on?" Katniss asks softly after some time has passed.

"Sure," I agree and stand, joining Pollux to rise them. I shake Finnick's shoulder and his eyes open, rolling around to look at me.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, shooting up and nearly hitting our heads together in the process of doing so.

"No," I respond to calm him, resting my hand on his shoulder, "Just time to get going, wouldn't you say?" He nods his head in agreement and starts to get up as I move over to wake up Looney as well.

Katniss hands my pack over to me as everyone sleepily, stiffly stands and begins to grab their own gear up, her eyes meet mine and I freeze as I hear something suddenly. Softly, just slightly rasping off in the distance.

"Quiet," I demand, raising a finger to my lips and the entire group goes silent at once, some of them look around nervously, confused.

We wait in the dark, restlessly silent, as a voice hisses through the tunnels, a collected voice coming from multiple sources, groups saying together: _"Katniss."_

Her eyes widen in front of me, watering with shocked tears and I grab the gun from my shoulder, flicking the safety off, "We need to move, now."

"What is it?" She asks as I start from the room being the closest to the door.

"You think I know?" I ask, almost humorlessly. I'm shoved backwards before I can get out as a creature slams against the opening door, it's claws stretching inside and scraping the metal walls, digging down, curling off shavings of rust.

My gun barks loudly before any other part of my body can even react to the threat and the creature howls in pain, retreating at once only to be replaced by another long white arm, shoving the door open wider to reveal it's horrible face.

Odd, sharp yellow eyes stare at us, mouth opening and drool spilling out in it's hunger as it's back arches up; it's long white neck stretches in an uncomfortable way.

I aim my gun and blow it's head off before it can attack, moving to shoot another as Finnick takes up ground beside me.

Katniss's arrow lodges itself in the head of one farther in the back, stopping it's attempt to jump over the group of Muttations huddling around the entrance.

Pollux and Castor, even Cressida joins us to shoot the ones down from spilling inside anymore, slamming bullets into some of them just in time as they advance, slinging their bodies back to the doorway.

They howl anomalistically as round after round fills them and their side companions until the door is nearly blocked, packed up with just the bodies of their dead.

"Now what?" Jackson asks in annoyance, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Katniss rests back, nearly collapsing against the wall, and pulls up her Holo behind me to look over the floor plans, "That's the only door out from here."

Pollux, however, knows differently and he points down below our feet with the front end of his gun, making an odd motion to his brother with his right hand.

"Air ducts," Castor says as Pollux moves me out of the way and points down in the corner near where I was sitting.

A large square in the ground, half covered by a carpet, he pulls it up and tries kicking downward first, then using his gun when that doesn't work, but the frame doesn't give way.

"Move, Pollux," I request, putting my hand on his shoulder, "Let me try something."

Gun shots ring out as the bodies in front of the door start to rustle.

"Their eating their way in," Homes comments shakily, swallowing, and my stomach rolls in agreement, _yeah, disturbing_.

Pollux moves out of the way and I kneel down.

"Peeta?" Katniss asks as I lace my fingers into the frame and pull upwards, only once, with as much strength as I can.

The frame gives immediately, nails snapping, and I stumble back, holding it in my hands.

Everyone freezes, thoroughly surprised at the show of strength, staring at me before I throw it down, "Go, go, Pollux first, Katniss then, go!"

Pollux drops down without argument and I take Katniss under the arms, helping to lower her in after him, with which she comments: "It's a small fall, no reason to hurt yourself."

"I'm out of bullets," Leeg 1 shouts and rushes to the duct, jumping down and I aim my gun around again to shoot the first Muttation coming in.

Jackson and Castor go next, both throwing glances at the door as they stop emptying their shells. They're followed by Homes and Cressida.

"Reloading," Tooney says from the back.

Mitchell jumps down into the duct and Finnick gives me a concerned look before slapping two of his magazines into my palm.

Messalla, still shooting at the door though, looks at me and makes a motion with his head, "Go on, Peeta, we've got this. We'll watch your back. Leave us."

"No," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder, "You go."

He stops as Tooney picks back up on the muttations struggling in and looks at me before nodding and running to the air ducts.

"I've got it, Peeta," Tooney argues as well, "Go."

"Don't make me force you," I say, taking up beside her and shooting the muttation making it's way through, "I'll cover you guys from here. Go, Tooney."

"Katniss would kill me if I left you behind. I'm staying."

I unload on another muttation up top and nudge Tooney with my gun, "If I leave you here, no ones going to be shoving something over the top of the duct, to stop these guys from following."

She looks back around the room, then to my arms, around again and her eyes fall on a few choice things that could fill the ducts, and she turns back to me at last with a sad expression, "How are you doing on bullets?"

"I'm good, go."

She starts to shake her head, but I nudge her away again.

"Tell Katniss that I shoved you in," I say, our eyes locking once more, "And tell her that I love her."

Tooney blinks and turns, jumping down as I shoot after a few more muttations, barely visible over the bodies piled at the door.

Alone in the room at last, the mutts seemingly held off for a moment, I shoulder the gun, grab up a few large mechanical objects and help them down into the ducts until it's full of heavy, immovable things. Then I replace the frame and grab a large cutting table from the farthest corner of the room and begin to force it over the frame.

It's heavy, seriously heavy, and I have to use the entire strength in my arms and legs, mostly legs, to get it to budge at all.

The bodies by the door rattle and shake and I manage to position the table on top completely, just as the muttations begin to break through at last.

This time though, the bodies holding the door stopped up collapse inward, spreading, spilling pieces and strings of innards into the room, finally making the way for more than just one or two muttations.

I shoot the first four, reload, and head shot another three as the numbers become overwhelming, yellow eyes in mass, staring in at me, struggling against each other to get inside.

One of them reaches me and I punch it in the head as hard as I can, knocking it down into the ground and it doesn't get back up.

Another one comes in close just as I press the end of the gun to it's head and blow it off.

But there's too many entering the room to stop them all.

_I'm out of options._

* * *

><p>My heart hammers in my ears as Pollux stops ahead, shoving his body against the exit frame.<p>

"Can you make it?" I ask, winded, arms tired from holding my body up. I wish we'd thought of positions before we climbed in here. Well, Peeta thought of them, but not exactly about getting **out **once we got _through_.

"Peeta?" I yell back down the group, wait, and no one responds, "Who's farthest back?"

A girl's voice sounds, "Me?"

_Not Peeta._

"Where's Peeta?" I ask back and Messalla answers this time.

"I think he stayed back."

"Stayed back?" I repeat, heart skipping a beat and my stomach clinching nervously, "Stayed back where?"

The girl answers this time, "He stayed back in the room, he blocked the entrance so the mutts couldn't follow. He... He shoved me down when I tried to argue."

"He what!" I shout now, feeling my entire body numb over painfully, struggling to turn back but Leeg 1 stops me.

The girl from the back speaks weakly again, "He said to tell you that he loves you. I'm sorry Katniss. I couldn't stop him from staying behind, he said he was the only one that could block it off to stop the muttations from following us."

My heart wrenches painfully and I struggle to turn back again when Pollux manages to finally get through the frame, climbing out and reaching back to pull me as the tears start welling up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

I move to help him, to get past everyone as they climb into the new room, so that I can get back to Peeta but Finnick snatches me away once he gets out himself.

"Stop Katniss, you can't go back," He says as I try to break his hold, punching him in the chest and trying to shove him away.

"Let me go, Finnick, I have to–"

"No," He says firmly as I start crying, breath evading me as the sobs take over, "You heard Tooney, Peeta blocked the entrance, even if you went back now, you'd just have to turn around. He wouldn't hear you under all of that. And he could... Could already be–"

"Finnick," I breathe painfully against his chest.

His hand holds the back of my hair when he whispers: "Don't let his sacrifice be in vain, Katniss. We have to finish the mission."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hmmm! Review?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	46. Chapter 11 OPTC: Struggle For Life

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

_**First, once you read this, you HAVE to read the ENDING note; when yer DONE reading the chapter.**_

**Onto this note:**

I keep saying Ima update sooner, and then I take JUST AS LONG with the next chapter/option. I'm sorry guys.

I've been super busy werking on my Trilogy. It's just so EASY to get lost in there. But I'm not quitting this, obviously. Updates will continue to happen until I'm done, you have my faithful werd. Honestly, I love you all too much to leave it hanging.

I don't think there's any real new option news, except fer the ending note, but we'll get to that later.

So umm, real life things... Glee has been intense. Any Kurtofsky fans out there? And then we only have this coming episode before a TWO MONTH BREAK asdfghjkl. Wtf Glee type people? At least deep shit is going to be happening.

And umm... Triss and I just caught up with The Walking Dead and finished BSG. Prolly So NoTORIous next, or something short like that. We have a few small serieses. And a lot of movies.

I think that's it as far as irl goes. So uh... Enjoy the chapter, keep coming back fer more, I love you all and may the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

Chrissy (Chapter 44): "I think so too. I think it's key to things moving along in an understandable way."

Chrissy (Chapter 45): "I'm sorry, I hate to leave you guys hanging but I RLY do it a lot. And you can't say she didn't try! Lol."

HG Love (Chapter 33): "C: Right? I think everyone agrees. Yer onto something. A lot of her choices will be explained in time, of course. But I PROMISE you that yer onto something. Keep a sharp mind when reading C, things aren't always what they seem, ever. I've had this planned out fer a WHILE. Since like mid-PWPP."

HG Love (Chapter 42): "Yeah, who the hell would have the balls to kill Annie, rly? I mean, SuCo maybe, not me so much. I'm glad yer torn, readers are SUPPOSE to be confused with C. Be sure to read the** Ending Note **and vote fer which you want! And yer going to love Peeta no matter which you choose, trust me. Yer right tho, him moving on would be far more interesting than anything else."

Ace: "No, no, don't apologize. I see all the views and that matters most to me, but I love and adore** re**views. So thank you kindly fer doing so! I'm sorry this took a while to be updated, normally I'm not this slow."

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I'm hangin' on, I'm hurting.

I'm backing down, you're starting over.

You and I, we've had enough,

The wrong side of love.

Even if my heart was burning,

It wouldn't stop the world from turning over.

We've had a lot, I've had enough,

The wrong side of...

Keep runnin' baby, don't look back.

Keep runnin' down a one way track.

You'll be the one to break my heart in two,

I'll be the one to take the hit for you.

If I had a chance, I'd take it,

If I had a heart, I'd break it open.

You and I, we've had enough,

The wrong side of...

And all the dreams I had,

They were lost along the way.

And all the words you said,

That you never meant to say.

Well, no one else is gonna love you like I do.

Oh, you can't walk away from what your heart knows.

You can't trade today for tomorrow.

I'm holding on 'til you let me go.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 - Struggle for Life<strong>

* * *

><p>The mutt sneers, staring up at me coldly and it's growling grows louder, causing my stomach to bottom out.<p>

_Weaponless._

That's the only thing I can think before the muttation lurches forward and bites down... _on my fake leg._

I fall back as he yanks violently, my own palms padding my pocket until I get the dagger between my fingers, flip off the button on the sheath and the creature lets go of my leg, jaws coming up to snap around my neck.

I roll away just before his mouth closes, bag flying behind my back as I raise up to my feet, my left leg barely harmed by the mutt.

He shakes his head in confusion, getting up from where I was laying before and turning to attack again.

My heart thrums away violently in my chest as the adrenaline pulses in my ears. Sight goes red as I dodge his attack and, in the crouch, I make a heavy, thrusting swipe upwards through it's chest with the sharp dagger gripped tightly in my hand, the hilt burying deep in the mutt's thick fur.

I'd hoped it would've just died then, but the creature shudders and yelps in pain, body stumbling over the leaves of the forest floor as it wobbles and stands firm.

It's beady yellow eyes stare up at me in strong determination as blood pours profusely from the open chest.

While it's mortally wounded and shouldn't be standing at all, it does. Possibly because it can't feel the pain, or it's anger is so tangible that it doesn't care. But whether it's the muttation's ignorance or stubbornness matters little when it forces me to decide at once that, _no matter what, I'm putting him to rest at the end of this_.

He finally lunges at me again, but he's so slow that the effort is lost, and I jam the dagger through his neck.

The sound of our short, violent struggle has attracted something else though and I hear it step curiously out of the woods behind us.

The muttation staggers and writhes on the ground from two wounds that would immediately kill most, and I look up, eyes wide to see a ... A bear. _As if the muttation wasn't bad enough_.

It's thick black fur shudders as it stops walking and looks at us both, the skin curling back from it's teeth as it sneers.

I stand firm, squeezing the filthy dagger tightly in my palm, and stare the bear down.

The muttation, still shaking at my feet, blood spraying wildly from it's neck and chest, finally stills as the leafs become stained red around him, some spattered across the nearby trees, the tips of my shoes and pants.

The large bear sniffs heavily, deep, dark eyes looking down at the dying mutt as it makes it's way to me.

Slowly, I pull the bow from my shoulder while it's attention is directed downwards, my own heart still hammering away, pulse beating out the chorus of imminent death in my ear drum, body groaning in exhaustion as I grab three arrows slowly from the quiver on my back.

I can't imagine what would be the best spot to aim towards on a bear.

But I know probably three things about them; they can climb up trees, they chase endlessly, and they're tough as nails.

_Oh, and the biggest thing Katniss took down was a deer. And I'm no Katniss._

His skull is far thicker than a deer, surely, and his fur is built for ware, prepared for being the predator.

I swallow as the creature stands still, waiting. He's probably got enough patience for the both of us. _But I don't._

And I decide, very quickly, that the best tactic is the fastest one.

Not glancing away, not even for a moment, I send the first three arrows directly for the bear's eyes because it's the only spot that is possibly penetrable from where I'm standing. They hit, spot on, and the creature breaks into a rage, running forward, but I'm ready for it.

I shoulder the bow, turn, and dart to the tree at my left. I'm too slow though and the bear reaches me, paw swiping out and hitting me in the side.

It's thick claws slice through the fabric of my shirt, pants, and into my hip. I don't stop though, and begin to scale the tree, arms reaching above me, pulling at the torn skin.

The bear is howling angrily, pawing at it, but I've chosen a rather thick tree to climb and he's going to have a hard time pushing it down.

I turn back, take the bow again and two more arrows, setting them up against the wood handle. The bear howls angrily and I release them into it's open mouth, piercing through the back of his throat.

He stops attempting to take down or even climb the tree, rolling backwards and writhing in pain on the ground, paws clawing at the wounds as his head shakes back and forth. I have to turn away then. There's too much blood and as proud of myself as I am, I can't just enjoy watching the creature whine and gasp in pain as it dies.

I take the time to observe the thick slices on my right side, blood pouring down my leg, into my boots, and dripping down over the leafs and tree below.

Painfully, I lift the shirt and lower the hem of the pants. The sight turns my stomach uncomfortably and I cover it back up, choosing instead to ignore it.

After a while, a terribly long while, the bear that nearly gutted me goes silent.

I glance down at the forest floor and see his body where it's curled up weakly, the muttation close by, also dead. Then I climb down the tree and begin to walk, rather stiffly, through the forest, trying to calm my racing heart; the tendrils of adrenaline pulling away as I trudge on and leaving a horrible ache.

Not shortly after the corpses are out of sight, nearly out of mind, I find the body of water that Celeste had mentioned.

The vines hang down over the rock face lazily, squeezed tight so that they can't blow in the wind, and I move forward to pull them down. I collect enough of the sensitive sacks to fill the bag on my shoulder and begin to trek my way back through the forest carefully, making sure not to harm the valuables.

As I walk, wound pouring out, painfully searing up and down my spine, I'm aware of the silence being made around me, the lack of birds and forest life, rabbits, squirrels. But this time I have my dagger palmed.

I'm fortunate enough that it's not needed again, and I'll send a team out into here once I get back, to retrieve the bear.

I pass the fence, feel my heart rate finally settle down, and make my way over the piles of rubble, around a block or two, until I reach the Apothecary.

It's haunting windows are dark, without a trace of person, but the door opens at once and Prim is running out to grab me.

"Peeta!" She shouts, eyes wide and long hair tied back, her arms wrapping around my neck as she buries her head against my chest and starts to sob softly.

I'm worried, rattled by her cries until she pulls away and takes the backpack from my shoulders, "I'll give these to mom, come in, sit down and I'll take a look at you."

"I'm alright, Prim," I start to say, gritting my teeth as I try not to put pressure on my right leg, but she gives me an incinerating glare reminiscent of her sister.

"Don't argue with me," She says and walks back inside.

Celeste nearly jumps in surprise, sitting by Annie's bed, waiting, but probably not expecting us when we walk in.

She rushes forward with a damp cloth in one hand and brushes it over my forehead, "Are you alright? You're burning up. Did you see the mutt?"

"Yeah," I let out a breath, handing over the bag, "But that was nothing compared to the bear."

"Bear?" She freezes in surprise and her eyes move down to the blood over my leg and boots, "How long have you been bleeding out? You're awfully pale."

I shrug and feel the darkness struggling to take over, "You take care of the girls, I'll go assemble a team to retrieve the body."

"Oh, no you won't," Prim says as I slump against her, "You need to lay down, Peeta."

"I'm fine," I try to reassure her, "Just make sure that Annie and Mila will be as well." And I watch Celeste look through the bag, pulling the sacks up and setting them on the counter.

Prim walks me over to a table on my own, pulling the shoes from my feet, the socks, the shirt from my back and standing me up so I can step out of my blood-soaked pants.

She cleans the area around the wounds and treats it before patching them up, washing my leg and side of the blood.

She's nearly done when consciousness escapes me.

* * *

><p>Clayton walks up with the five arrows in hand, cleaned of blood, and holds them out in my general direction.<p>

"Thank you," I say, and take them from him.

He sits down beside me and lets out a heavy breath, hands in his lap. He doesn't say anything for a long time, eyes just staring out into open air, and when he does, it's always worth waiting for, "You should've brought me along."

I shake my head, "That's okay, I didn't want to worry you."

"I'd rather be worried than clueless," Clayton says, frowning.

I nod, "I'm sorry, but I didn't want them to lose you too, if I'd gotten into too much trouble."

"People shouldn't always worry about me," He sounds annoyed for a moment, almost sad, "They always think I can't handle things, but I can."

"I know you can," I say honestly, finally turning away, "That wasn't why I didn't tell you though, Clayton. I didn't tell you, or bring you along, because if I died, and those girls lived, I knew I could count on you to take care of them. They both matter to me. And I trust you."

He smiles at this finally, and his shoulders relax a little, "You're a kind man, Peeta. But still, I would've liked to see that muttation."

"See?" I joke and he shoves my shoulder.

"You know what I mean."

"It wasn't the most attractive thing," I continue on, playing with him, "If you want to see anything, please, try a flower, or a tree, a sunset or something. Not a mutated creature that barely understands when it's time is up. And it was more terrifying than most of the ones I've dealt with. I'm glad you didn't have to fight it."

Clayton bows his head, hands coming together, and he sits in silence again after that.

I put the arrows down into the quiver, shouldering the bag and stand up finally, "I guess we'll go join Celeste for dinner?"

He nods, joining me, and we walk together to the Apothecary.

Prim greets us at the door and motions for us to come inside. It's later in the day, early for sleep but timely for a meal, and I'm sure that the team of people that went into the forest to get the bear will be cooking it for dinner tonight.

"Is Celeste upstairs?" Clayton asks and Prim confirms with a soft 'yes', "I'll go help her, then."

_Clayton is becoming more useful in about everything now, cooking, cleaning up outside, even picking the herbs, and now Katniss's mother is teaching him how to mix things? How does that work?_

_Must be the smells._

Prim walks up and looks at the surface of the dressing, "It's not bleeding out, but don't stress your leg too much, or I'll force you to stay in bed for the next week."

"I won't, Prim, I promise."

She smiles and offers a chair at the table to me, "I saw the bear when they brought it back. I didn't imagine it so huge."

"Yeah, he was tough," I say, taking the seat and the drink she shoves into my hands.

"From what I gather, you're tougher."

I smile at her comment, watch her change the washcloth on Annie's forehead, her blond hair spilling down her shoulders as she checks the two women over.

"How are they?" I ask after a long silence.

"They're through most of it, improving by the hour," She says, sounding more like her mother, the contemplative mind coming through in her voice.

"Will they be up some time tonight?" I ask, hoping for the best.

Prim shakes her head, "Doubtful. No, it's best that they stay asleep for now and heal through the worst. There's no telling what damage the poisons have done to their organs yet, but mom says that there's at least some. We'll go in later and check everything, but for now we're just gonna have to wait it out and give them as careful cures as possible."

"What about the baby?" I ask at once, heart speeding up despite itself.

"The baby would be the last thing harmed in this case," Prim reassures me, "Don't worry about him, he's fine, he's well protected where he sits."

"What about Annie, though?"

"I don't know," She says weakly, walking back over to me and taking a seat as well, "She's weak, herself, and even Mila's going to have a hard time recovering from this. You're pretty worried about them, why's that?"

I don't answer at first, watching Annie's frail body as she shudders under the warm covers placed over her, eyes squeezing in her restless sleep, "Annie and Finnick are like family to me, of course I'm worried about them. And Mila is Clayton's sister."

"Annie and Finnick?" Prim asks, eyebrows reaching her hairline, "You _do _know that he's **still **alive, right?"

I can't help the smile breaking my face as I look up at her again, "Is he? He's coming here?"

"Soon," Prim says, a suspicious look in her eyes, "So, if he's coming back, where does that leave you two? Have you talked about it?"

I turn to her in confusion and raise my brow, "How do you mean?"

Prim rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, "Aren't you and Annie, you know? Haven't you been together for a while, or something like that? You act the same way you did with Katniss, with her. You take care of her."

"No," I say immediately, raising my hands, "No, Prim. Not like that, not with Annie. She's like a sister."

She nods in understanding and smiles weakly, "I'm sorry, I guess I just assumed–"

"That I'd move on from Katniss that quickly?"

Prim frowns again, "Not exactly. I mean," She reaches out and touches my hand hesitantly at first, small fingers squeezing mine and I can see that my hands are like a giant's in comparison to hers, "You need to move on, it's not healthy, but–"

"Prim," I say, taking a breath and standing up, pulling my hand away reluctantly, "Please don't do this with me. Don't try to convince me that I need to move on already, I hear it from everyone I meet as it is. Things are so easy when I talk to you, don't complicate it."

"I know," She says, bowing her head, "I'm just tired of seeing you struggle against a brick wall."

"Prim–"

"No, Peeta," Prim raises her voice, eyes flaring up as she stands as well, "I'm sick and tired of seeing her treat you like... Like... Like _shit_."

My eyes widen at her words and I shake my head, "Prim–"

"Stop it," Her blond hair is whipped out of her face and she presses her finger to my chest, "Katniss is married, she's moved on, don't you think you deserve to move on as well? Because **I** do. I'm tired of seeing you throw your love away when she... She doesn't even care anymore. She can't remember anything you've done for her. And even when she could, she still wasn't compliant. She's with Gale."

"Prim!" The only thing I can think of to quiet her is to grab her, so my arms reach out and clamp on her biceps, "Please."

Her eyes widen and she keeps glaring up at me, shorter than Katniss, nearly half her size in muscle mass, but just as angry and threatening looking, eyes flared in fury and teeth clamping out her frustration.

"You're young," She argues, hands firmly pressed to her sides as I hold her, "You're still young too. Why give up on yourself now? Why shut everyone else out of your life when there are still people that love you?"

And I don't have an argument good enough for that.

_I need to move on, I should._

_But I'm scared. _I'm also tired, more tired than I've ever been, of fighting back the inevitable.

Katniss isn't going to come back to me and I need to move on from this or it's going to consume me until I'm nothing. _Until there's nothing left of me._

"You've been in love with Katniss for so long," Prim says softly, tears streaming down her cheeks, "And she doesn't even deserve you. She chose Gale."

_She chose Gale._

_No, she didn't choose Gale. Snow did._

_Snow captured her, Snow changed her. And in the end, he won._

She's not really Katniss anymore. The things she's done with me have just been playing with my emotions. They aren't things she would do.

_Prim's right, I have to move on._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Now, in yer review (or to me personally, if yer shy), you have a new OPTION. The one you pick is what will KEEP happening in C, the rest will be available on my website.

**The choices are what you _want_ to happen:**

**1.** Peeta will stay single and faithful to Katniss, and not move on. EVER.

**2.** Peeta moves on with... Prim?

**3. **Peeta moves on with Mila.

**4. **Peeta moves on with... ... ... Clayton? Lawl. (This is actually serious)

_Let the games begin._

Anyways, that's it, hope you all enjoyed, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. You know the drill by now, I'm sure. We're like 45 chapters into ISDP, please.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	47. Chapter 11 OPTD: Beast in the Forest

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**If you STILL haven't submitted a character fer Option D, feel free to do so, YOU STILL CAN. If you want ANOTHER, that's cool too. You can also submit people from the other Districts as well.**

Alright, now that that's out of the way...

Hello everybody!

Look, I know these updates have been slow, I'm really sorry fer that, but thank you all fer remaining stronger than ever and being such avid fans! I love and adore each and every one of you.

If you haven't already voted fer the Option C path, go back and do that, send me a message or put it in a review, I read everything, so I won't miss anyone.

I'm pretty sure the options will be ending at 14 chapters each? We'll have to see about that. Big things are happening at ONCE aftewards, and you all should expect some big, awesome changes fer things developing. I'm werking it all out on my site. But it's all underway atm.

**As fer real life**, I hope you guys have been keeping up with all of the Hunger Games content, the image of Peeta painting his arm, omg. That was pretty awesome. Not too much longer now readers! And I've been asked a few times about writing a REVIEW of it, so I'll be doing that.

Umm, so **Glee **happened. Holy shit? Kurtofsky lots and Dave tried to commit suicide, which I bawled over. Cough Syrup was good. ^^ And umm, I'm positive Quinn isn't dead, but I'm wondering what's going to happen to her after this. That was pretty HUGE.

Also, fer the **Mass Effect **fans, 3 is coming soon, have you played the Demo? Cuz I did. The handles are amazingly beautiful.

And TristAn and I just started watching **Warehouse** **13**. I'm surprised I never knew about this show, it's amazing. But Pete should've been played by David Boreanaz.. Anyways.

I think that's it, enjoy this srs long chapter and enjoy! May the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

It's time to strap out boots on.

This is a perfect day to die,

Wipe the blood out of our eyes.

In this life there's no surrender.

There's nothing left for us to do,

Find the strength to see this through.

I stand here right beside you,

Tonight we're fighting for ours lives.

We are the ones who will never be broken.

With our final breath, we'll fight to the death.

We are soldiers, we are soldiers.

We are the ones who will not go unspoken,

No we will not sleep, we are not sheep.

We are soldiers.

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><p><strong>Chapter 11 - Beast in the Forest<strong>

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><p>Katniss tries out the bow and arrow set, mouth making approving sounds until she's satisfied and gathers back up the arrows from the target and stores them away safely.<p>

I've been waiting for this moment for the past hour, watching impatiently as the people slowly filter out of the room once they've seen the practice, and Katniss throws the quiver onto her shoulder as she begins to head after them.

"Katniss," I say, reaching out to grab her arm and hold her back.

She stops and her eyes meet mine questioningly, "Peeta?" She asks in confusion.

"Can you..." I pause, gut squirming nervously as the piercing gray orbs stare up at me intensely, but I glance at the round of her stomach to re-surge my confidence._ This conversation has to happen whether I like it or not._

"I'd feel better if you stayed behind this time."

"What?" She shouts, flaring up immediately and pulling her arm away, "You can't seriously be asking me to wait."

I shake my head, trying to calm her, holding up my hands to stop her from completely overreacting, "It's just that you're pregnant. And not just 'three week pregnant', which I'd still argue with, but you're getting bigger."

She starts to protest again and I grab her arms, holding them to her sides.

"You're getting bigger every single day–"

"Peeta–"

"Don't fight me on this, Katniss, **please**. Our baby isn't the size of a lima bean anymore, he's a person, he has a gender, and he'll slow you down," I stare into her eyes, refusing to look away as they water up, "I can't put you both at risk."

"What if you don't come back?" She asks, tears pouring down her cheeks, "I'm not staying while you go out there to fight this thing."

I shake my head, "You _have _to."

"No, Peeta–"

"Please," I beg her, "I can't have you out there on the field. I can't lose you." Touching her cheek, I see her resolve settle for a moment.

She nods slowly, as if understanding my point at last, "Alright."

I release her arms and turn back to pick up my gun and bow from the ground where I'd dropped them, "Katniss–"

"Like hell I'm staying behind to hear back from your group," She says suddenly, shoving me, "You think I'd just sit and wait to hear if you were alive? I'm going out there, whether you want me to or not."

I struggle to retain balance when she shoves me again and I actually fall this time, unable to stop myself. I can see her eyes going wide as she reaches out to try and catch me but it's too late and I land hard on my side, the pain stealing my breath.

"Peeta–"

I shake my head, holding out my arm to stop her again, but for a different reason this time.

"I'm okay," I say, struggling to stand back up and she starts to grab my hand but I shove it away, "I'm fine, Katniss."

Her hands cover her mouth as I get onto my feet again and stare down at her.

"I'd let you go," I say, taking a breath, "But there's no way that's going to happen, Katniss. You're going to have to kill me if you want to get out of Adler."

She glares hard suddenly as I move to the door and motion to the guards standing in wait outside.

"Take Katniss back to her father, please, and tell him to hold her here while I'm gone." They've probably heard everything because they nod without question and shoulder their rifles.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts as they move in to grab her.

I watch the struggle as she tries to kick out or shove them, but they're large and she doesn't stand a chance.

_It's not something I can risk._

I grab up my gun and bow a second time, taking her arrows and walking out of the building at last.

The group prepared to join me on the muttation hunt is waiting ahead and they continue once I join them, leading the way back through Adler.

One of them, a young man with sharp features and short blond hair, who I know to be referred to as Oliver, turns back to me and asks: "Your wife not coming?"

"Not a chance," I answer back and he smiles.

"I thought I was going to have to say something."

I shake my head, "I didn't fight to get her through two hunger games just to have her die against a mutt. No."

He nods and we walk to the passageway that Oeric brought Katniss and I through, up onto the above ground and the team begins to spread throughout the village.

There's seven of us standing around the entire area listening and looking for any sign of muttation prints or struggle, Coin's daughter being one of them, and she watches through the shuddering trees with a firm set of eyes.

Tooney looks back at me and motions in front of her with the head of her gun, "I know it's unlikely to bump into this creature on day one," She whispers softly, "But there's something moving ahead and I think our scout's up there."

I turn from her and look where she's pointing, far out into the distance, and see what she's motioning to at once. A long black line across the forest, moving slowly towards us. "What is that?"

"People," Our aforementioned scout, Kevin, says as he comes running in from the front of the village, "They're in bad shape, most of them, and they need medical attention."

_Medical attention?_

"Was it the mutt?" Tooney asks, her eyes growing wide, "Were they attacked by it?"

Kevin shakes his head, "No, they're from District Thirteen."

"Did you get any names?" I ask, trying to control the surprise on my face and keep my feet planted on the ground, "What all did they say?"

He shrugs, "There was a tall man with tan skin, seemed to be leading the group. I didn't have time to ask. But they have some bodies too. Not everyone in their group is alive."

"How many are there?" Oliver asks from my side.

"Over a thousand, I think."

_A thousand people... Walking here? _Technically it must've been **impossible **to miss us if there was a line of a thousand people walking through the forest.

Tooney turns back to a girl just behind her, "Take this news down to the board, we can't just let all of these people in."

The girl nods and goes back inside.

"No mutt," Tooney says, turning back to the advancing horde of people, "But I think this makes for an interesting enough first day."

Kevin takes a seat on the porch of a house, pulling his hat off of his head and wiping some sweat away. He's young, probably around my age, with short, curly brown hair and round, welcoming green eyes.

"The top ground village consisted of like seven hundred people, right?" He asks, "Comfortably. Maybe they could stay up here?"

Tooney shrugs, "Whatever the case, we need to make a new team to be stationed up here, if this had just passed by and we didn't even notice."

"I think we'd notice," One of the other women, Elaine, with long blond hair up in a ponytail says as she looks at me, "I mean, it's a thousand people. Who doesn't hear that walking above head?"

Tooney turns back to me, "If they're Thirteen, they have their rules. Do you want these people coming in?"

I hadn't thought of that, but the question immediately bothers me and I speak my thoughts aloud, "They're homeless, regardless of anything else. They need a place to stay. But I don't like the idea of them going down and integrating with Adler. Maybe they could stay up top and we could supply them with food and other necessities?"

Tooney nods slowly, "I think that's understandable, you can argue that with the board, I guess."

Sounds erupt suddenly to our left and the group stands, guns drawn as we watch the black line of people begin to veer from the left side, into the center.

"What's–" Tooney starts to ask but she closes her mouth as we see a large shape, just reaching our line of sight, begin shoving it's way through the survivors of District 13.

"Oh no," Kevin says in shock.

We're at such a distance that we can't see much, but the little spots of black being sent flying through the air is hard to miss.

_It's the muttation. _And he didn't miss the group walking towards us either.

"We're going in!" Tooney shouts and runs forward, the rest of us immediately following after.

"Fucking buffet," Oliver grumbles from my side and I can only nod in agreement with him. Those poor people didn't even know.

As we get closer, the screams grow louder and I'm the first one that has to move out of the way and avoid being hit by one of the victims, or at least... _Three fourths of a victim._

Tooney turns back and shouts, "Don't get touched by or near a single person that is wounded, do you all understand!"

We shout in agreement as we reach the beast and I get my first detailed look of it.

The muttation is large, large enough to swallow a human whole. It's two long legs are bent backwards at the knee like a horse and it's skin is green, scaled, with long black talons on it's feet. I'd call it a dragon, but it mostly resembles a–

"Dinosaur," I say, body shuddering in shock at the creature. I can't name one I haven't had fun drawing, but the muttation isn't one of them.

Vaguely reminiscent of the Tyrannosaurs Rex, but more resembling the fast, cunning, smart, and more violent little brother. Meant for speed, meant for killing visciously and planning ahead, the Velociraptor. We might've stood a chance against something closer to the former.

It's razor sharp teeth glisten with blood, it's pricked, thin slitted yellow eyes hold animalistic knowledge unlike anything I've seen before as it stares around at the people trying to flee.

It has a long, sharp, jagged tail that swings heavily and violently behind, striking at it's victims and sending them flying into the distance.

It's longer arms stretch down and tear people up from the ground, taking bites out of them, blood dribbling from it's chin.

But what gets me more than anything is it's roar. The loud, bellowing shriek of a roar that I've _had _to have heard before.

Someone behind me asks: "Sounds familiar, right?" And I turn back immediately to see Finnick, his face is ashen and he's holding a large trident in his grip, staring up at the beast, poised for battle.

"I thought so too," He smiles at me, "I think this is the beast from the third quarter quell."

_Possibly._

It's not time to join hands and celebrate each other's company though, so I take up arm by Tooney and aim my gun for the mutt's eyes, "Nice to see you here, Finnick. I much prefer less mortally threatening situations though, if you could do that for me next time."

"I'll try!" He laughs as I unload four bullets upward and the creature turns immediately to us, the others of my team releasing theirs in time as well.

The muttation reaches out and grabs up the blond girl, Elaine, but she makes a point to aim at his scaled arms and releases a few rounds, "They're not piercing!" She shouts, legs helplessly dangling as she struggles to break free, but only just before the muttation's mouth closes over the top half of her body and rips her apart.

"Incendiary rounds everyone!" Tooney shouts, sounding breathless.

I change out the magazine and take up aim again, this time on the raptor's thin stomach as I see Finnick throw his trident forward.

He roars immediately as the new bullets tear into the tender flesh, as the trident jabs into his thigh, and he turns, tail swiping down, but I'm too slow to react.

"Peeta!" Finnick shouts, shoving me out of the way and we both slam hard into the grass a good four yards away, just a hair from the longest spike protruding from the muttation's tail.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" He asks, eyes wide as I pull my gun up.

"Not particularly, thank you though!"

It's an open shot and either way, for this creature, it's going to be painful. But he brought it on himself.

I aim the bullets under his tail, now that he's exposed his backside to me, and immediately release the next five rounds of my magazine directly into the most uncomfortable spot imaginable. I almost feel guilty doing it but the shoulder and head of a man that land next to me is an easy enough affirmation of things done **right**.

Finnick bursts into laughter as the creature, instead of turning angrily onto us a third time, darts away at once and barrels through trees to escape it's rapist. _Smart mutt._

"I can't believe you just did that," The tribute laughs, grabbing my arm and hoisting me back onto my feet.

I shrug, "Can't say he didn't ask for it."

_I doubt that's the last of him though._

Finnick pulls me into a large hug and I drop the gun, hugging back at once.

"You've been missed," He says, pulling away and looking back towards the crowd of people, "Annie's somewhere back in there, care to say 'hi'?"

"Of course I do," I say, joining him as we walk the short distance.

He could be in worse shape, Finnick, he's got some burns on the side of his arm and his clothes have... Well, they've looked better, but they've also looked worse. Granted that was in the arena, but they have definitely looked worse.

Annie, on the other hand, is wearing clean, untarnished clothes, her hands over her belly and her eyes wide as she runs to Finnick and grabs him in a tight hug.

I can't help feeling warmed by these two and it's great to see that they survived through the bombing. True love, I guess, conquering the impossible as usual and I watch them come back to me, Finnick motioning to his beautiful wife.

My team joins me at last, Tooney and the other three that managed to survive the muttation's attack.

"We need to get everyone together before this disease spreads like wildfire."

As I look around, listening to the group start talking amongst themselves, I can already see the potential for something completely catastrophic.

Bodies torn in bits and pieces hang as ornaments from the trees around, limbs dangling and blood pouring down in streams of light rain here and there. Some people even struggle on the ground, broken limbs, bodies torn open, some just cowering and screaming.

There could be any number of them already moving throughout the crowd, wounded and infected.

I reach out and grab both Finnick and Annie, "You two," they look at me in alarm, hearing some of the things Tooney and Kevin are talking about, "Finnick, Annie, _listen to me_."

Finnick nods, his eyes meeting mine.

"I want you to go back to the village, and be careful. Don't touch anyone, don't touch blood, don't touch bodies."

"Why?" He asks but I speak over him.

"Just don't, alright?" I ask, staring at them both, "Can you do that?" He nods, "Keep Annie safe, alright? I'll be back with you guys once this is sorted out, just stay in one of the houses and keep hidden."

They both set off together and I turn back to the crowd at large.

"What do we do?" Tooney asks, eyes wide and panicking.

I take a breath and step forward, "Everyone!" Some of them silence but I put my fingers to my mouth and whistle as loudly as possible to get everyone's attention.

Silence takes place at once and they all turn to look at me.

"Now, I know this is hard, things are scary and you're all afraid," I shout and some of them nod, "What I need you to do right now is to part hands with anyone you're grabbing onto. Don't touch each other and please, slowly make distance from the people beside you. Don't shove, just, be careful. **Don't touch each other**."

They move slowly and I see hands resting at their sides.

Kevin lets out a breath, "Shit."

"Now," I say when they've all settled back down some, "If you have blood on you, or you're wounded, please stay exactly where you are. Don't be afraid, but you're in danger of contamination from the blood. If you're not wounded and you don't have blood on you, please step forward and we'll examine you as quickly and carefully as possible."

The groups of people, some crying and breathing heavy, silently panicking, start to separate.

"Don't shove each other," I repeat as they come up to us, "Take you're time, and don't panic, please. That won't help anyone."

We begin looking over the groups of people coming in, clearing them to continue on to the village. But we remind them over and over again not to touch, just in case.

With most of them gone through and examined, we're left with the bodies hanging off trees, the wounded struggling on the ground, and a deep amount of people with blood splattered over their clothes, on their faces, or in their hair.

The first, closest, boy's eyes meet mine and my stomach flips nervously because he's shaking to the bone, barely three feet tall with short, straight brown hair and wide, terrified gray eyes. And he has to be no more than four years old.

His hands are coated with blood as he holds them out to me, it's on his clothes, it's on his face, his lips, his cheeks are painted with it.

In front of him, at his feet, is an older woman, possibly his mother, and she's definitely dead.

His little shoulders shake with sobs of fear as he moves forward, stumbling over her, his short, small arms stretched out as he cries and grabs onto me around the waist.

I swallow, feeling the pull in my stomach as I reach my hand down and run it through his bloodied hair.

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

This chapter inspired by Terra Nova. ^^

Oh and um, don't ferget to review please!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	48. Chapter 12 OPTA: Peacekeepers

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Option P will most likely be going up tomorrow, watch my twitter if you want to know when exactly.

Omg this chapter's long.

I got so deep into it, writing everything out and not paying attention to the length (that's what she said). Next thing I knew, it was a page longer than normal. That's a good thing though, huh? Considering we're reaching the end.

Be delighted in the amount of detail and understanding I'm going to strive to keep collected at the end of Mockingjay, unlike someone else.

Ironically, I think the first chapter of TBBA was lacking in details compared to SuCo's version.

Alright, alright, fer Option C, I think we've finally come to a conclusion of votes. Everyone has been taken into consideration. And Option 2 won out by one vote. Not at ALL supported by the amount of common sense that Option 2 voters supplied, and the lack of reason that Option 1 voters contained.

Nearly every person that voted fer 2 put thought into it. And the 1 voters didn't even give me much beyond 'he SHOULD be'.

To help you all accept Option 2, think of it this way: there's OBVIOUSLY three other options where he stays with Katniss. AND, Option 1 will exist on my website. Though it might be surprising to some of you how it plays out. But it will be plot heavy.

There's some... Interesting news regarding the options, soon. So expect that. It will be in a special, SEPARATE author's note from the chapters. Should be coming up after Chapters 14.

Nothing to report irl really. Been playing Skyrim and SWTOR, waiting fer Mass Effect 3, and clearing through Warehouse 13. That's about all. ^^

I hope everyone is doing great and you all are safe! Please continue on and enjoy what I have presented before you! May the odds be ever in yer favor.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I don't know you, but I want you,

All the more for that.

Words fall through me and always fool me,

And I can't react.

And games that never amount to more than they're meant,

Will play themselves out.

Take this sinking boat and point it home,

We've still got time.

Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice,

You've made it now.

Falling slowly, eyes that know me,

And I can't go back.

Moods that take me, and erase me,

And I'm painted black.

You have suffered enough, and warred with yourself,

It's time that you've won.

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><p><strong>Chapter 12 - Peacekeepers<strong>

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><p>It feels surreal, watching Katniss clean the blood from my wrists, wringing out the towel in a warm bowl of water as she sits in front of me, her eyes staring intensely down at the wounds. She carefully spreads an antiseptic over the cuts and then begins to wrap them up in gauze.<p>

"You've got to keep them clean," She says softly, her fingers touching my palms before she leans down and kisses them, "Otherwise the infection could spread and–"

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," I whisper, watching the memory of her staring down at the cut in my leg, "Even if my mother isn't a healer."

Her eyes meet mine, wide; but pleased.

"You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?"

"Real," I answer at once and she smiles, "And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?"

She nods, "Real," and then adds: "You were the reason I was alive to do it."

I'm unsure of this comment though. I can only remember her pulling me from the bank and nourishing me back to health, and then poisoning me with sleep syrup so that she could get the medicine. But how does any of that entail me saving her?

_She poisoned me, that's all._

"Was I?"

I can't stop the anger and distrust from rising up and I find myself unconsciously pulling at the cuffs that hold me, trying to break free.

_I don't want to break free_, though._ It's not safe to._

Pain stings sharply in the cuts as the metal digs in and it helps me to collect myself again, "I'm so tired, Katniss." I breathe between my teeth as I struggle to keep control.

"Go to sleep," She says. But I haven't meant that kind of 'tired' at all. I'm exhausted physically too, yes, but the mental strain is much more threatening,_ I think_. To try and keep the facts straight to myself.

"Not yet," I answer back, "I don't want to be free to do anything, Katniss. I'm dangerous."

She seems hesitant at first, eyes looking me over questioningly before she finally nods, getting up and pulling out her key to free one of my wrists, wrapping the metal around one of the stair supports and clicking it back into place with me.

"Thank you," I say as she lowers herself back down to look at me, leaning in and pressing her lips against mine in a soft, reassuring kiss.

My stomach twists in excitement and then she pulls away before it can become anything more than just a simple, friendly kiss between two people in a time of war. _Two people in need of simple physical connection._

She takes a seat just feet from me, crossing her arms over her chest and watching the others in the room in silent observation.

I close my eyes at once and allow sleep to settle in.

* * *

><p>Over the next two days we struggle with the news of Peacekeepers invading the areas directly outside the store we hide out in and chaos in the streets as Katniss and what's left of our group try to decide on the next course of action.<p>

It doesn't come to a head until her and Gale approach me with a suggestion.

"We're leaving in the morning," Katniss announces to me, eyes staring deeply into mine, "Gale, me, Cressida and Pollux will be going after Snow. But we can't have you coming with us."

She's right, there's no argument about that, so I nod. But it doesn't stop the sadness of the fact.

"You're right," I agree openly, "I'd just be a danger to the group. Especially you, Katniss." And then I continue with the best suggestion I've got, the one I've been thinking over since the beginning of this trip, "I'll head out on my own then. It's best that we part ways here."

Katniss's eyes water immediately and she looks devastated despite being the one to bring it up first.

"And what would you do?" Cressida asks, watching me as well now.

"I'm not sure exactly. The one thing I might still be useful at is causing a diversion. You saw what happened to that man who looked like me."

"I don't want that for you."

"Katniss–"

"What if you lose control?" She asks, raising her voice.

I shrug, thinking it over for only a moment and speaking aloud as I do, "If I feel it coming on, maybe I can make it back here."

"And if Snow gets you again?" Gale questions me, "You don't even have a gun."

"I'll just have to take my chances. It's not the first time I've been some place dangerous, on my own."

Gale nods slowly and then reaches into his chest pocket, pulling out his own nightlock berries and handing them over to me.

"What about you?"

He smiles and motions to Katniss, "Don't worry about me. Beetee showed me how to detonate my explosive arrows by hand. If that fails, I've got my knife. And I'll have Katniss."

_Of course he will._

"She won't give them the satisfaction of taking me alive."

_Let's __**both **__hope not._

"Take it, Peeta," Katniss says, her voice small and soft as she looks at my open palm, "No one will be there to help you."

_Not even you._

* * *

><p>During the night, Katniss's nightmares jar me a few times as I drift and my own nearly wake up the entire room.<p>

We all are finally able to avoid _trying _to get some sleep when five rolls around. Of which, in record time, we're dressed, camouflaged like people of the Capitol, and getting ready to head out into the streets to join the crowd moving steadily through them.

Katniss takes out her key again before she leaves with Gale and removes the shackles from my wrists at last.

"Listen," She says as I rub them over the gauze, "Don't do anything foolish."

_As if she could stop me._

"No. It's last resort stuff completely," I kid, watching her eyes glass over and she's moving close before I have time to stop her, wrapping her slim arms around my neck and pulling me into a warm, welcome hug.

I'm surprised, taken aback for a moment, but I finally melt into the embrace, grabbing her around the waist and squeezing her close to me.

And just like that, she releases and rushes out of the door, joining the crowd with Gale by her side.

_Not looking back, not once._

I wait a short moment before turning to Tigris and thanking her before setting out myself, _alone_.

The chill of snowflakes and ice bite over what little of my face is exposed as I follow the crowd, eyes steadied on the cloak Katniss is wearing.

I'm jostled and shoved a bit, but not enough to bother me. _Yet._

There's a single Peacekeeper making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline to Katniss and Gale, and there's nothing I can do to stop him but what I decide in that very moment.

"Hey!" I aim my shout at him and he turns to see me throw off the head cover, shove the woman next to me out of the way for her own safety, and begin to weave from the street towards the shops lined along a larger road.

Fortunately he follows at once, probably because he's **more **sure I am who_ I _am than Katniss and Gale are who _they _are.

I turn back to see him draw his pistol, even though he's in the middle of a crowd of people and there are more heads in the way of me than a few bullets are bound to get through. It's impossible for him to hit me from this range without taking out innocent bystanders.

"Peeta Mellark!" He shouts and I see another Peacekeeper nearby turn his head to look at me before joining his companion.

If I stay too far ahead, now that we're both moving into a more empty alleyway, the first one can easily shoot me from where he is at this point. I turn immediately, shoes digging into the snow as I run back before he can even try and aim at me.

His eyes widen as I reach him and ram my fist into his stomach. On reflex, most likely, he pulls the trigger of his gun and I feel the bullet hit home in my side.

I grab his pistol, mostly out of anger and adrenaline, and slam the butt of it into his temple when the second one reaches me.

He makes to grab around my waist but I duck and, in his momentum, he throws himself over me completely and lands hard into a slosh of snow and gravel ahead.

The first Peacekeeper grabs at the brick wall behind him, stumbling and dizzy, but he's too slow when I turn back and continue through the alleyway. I stop just in time to grab the second one's gun as well and run past him as he's finally getting up to pursue me.

He's joined by three others that are closer and try to make grabs at the robes still covering the rest of my body.

In response, I throw them off as well, now only dressed in my team suit and armor. I turn back to see two of the men get caught in the robes, struggling to stop themselves, and end up falling head over each other.

The closest, one of the three that joined the chase, pulls out his gun and I stop, boots sliding on the snow for a foot or two before I drop down and throw out my leg to catch him up.

His legs stay back as the rest of his body throws him forward and his face buries itself into a dirty, ice cold pile of mush.

I painfully stand up, hand over the bullet wound in my side, and I look down at it to see the blood leaking out between my fingers, dripping down onto my boots and turning the snow on that side of me an odd shade of pink as it stretches out like little veins through the wet substance.

The second Peacekeeper from before finally reaches us and, without a weapon, throws himself on top of me and tries to grab one of the guns from my frozen fingers.

I roll up from my back and shove him, taking his right arm in my hands and twisting it behind his back with a sharp snap. He howls in pain and I slam his head down in the snow covered ground, against the hard stone below. He stops screaming at once.

Now though, the other two Peacekeepers, void of my robes at last, come panting up.

The first one, a thin man with brown hair, struggles to stop me by shouting: "Don't move there, Peeta Mellark! Don't move."

The second collapses, a large man with a red face and soaking wet black hair clinging to his neck, breathing too hard to control his self.

"Where's your guns?" I ask the two.

At this, one of them reaches to his side and grabs his.

"Don't shoot him, Crooner," The brown haired man says, shoving his panting partner so that the other man falls down on his side, already barely able to hold himself up.

This act surprises me. _Don't shoot __**me**__?_

The second one, Crooner, gives him the same look I am, staring up at his partner with a scrunched up face and red cheeks, "Why not?"

He's about to respond when the Peacekeeper I'd tripped up, Peacekeeper five, rolls over and whips out his own pistol.

A bullet rings past me and almost shoots the Peacekeeper on the ground, struggling for breath still. He starts up at once in surprise, standing on his feet and looking at me, but his eyes fall on the other man just by my feet.

"You're gonna shoot your friend here?" I ask, grabbing the gun and shoving him back down on his side.

"Peeta Mellark," Crooner says stubbornly, holding onto his belt and staring proudly at me.

"Shove it," the first one growls, turning to leave his partner.

"Dennis–"

"I said 'shove it'."

A large group of Peacekeepers run by the alley entrance just at that moment, one of them stopping and looking in the alleyway to see me with four other Peacekeepers around, two not moving on the ground and the other half of them turned away.

"Peeta Mellark!" The little guy shouts, grabbing the attention of his group and they all turn to run in after us.

"Shit!" Dennis says, turning to me, "You better run, bread boy."

I don't wait as the Peacekeepers advance forward in a dead sprint. I bolt into a house nearby, shoving the door open and stumbling over the large furred carpet, blood dripping onto the cream colored rug as I trip and plant myself in the ground.

"Ay," The Peacekeeper behind me, Dennis shouts, helping me up, "Get off your face, man."

The door shuts, locks, and I can hear Crooner panting at it, "They're coming, that's not gonna stop them."

"Get your fat ass over here and help me." The first one says and the two of them struggle to help me leave the hallway but Crooner gasps the second he realizes that I'm wounded.

"Shit, Den, he's bleeding everywhere."

The door is thrown open, wood splintering, and the hallway fills with Peacekeepers, most of them fighting over each other to get to me.

A loud banging starts at the front door and we all stop to look at it.

"What's that?" Dennis asks and then the knob of it explodes, the bullet ringing through the room and taking out the Peacekeeper that's hand is clamped tightly on my shoulder.

He collapses and the door swings open.

Peacekeepers move towards it as I watch Gale Hawthorne throw himself up into the room and get grabbed up by them.

Some of the men draw pistols and I slam my fist into the closest one's rib cage, pulling out one of the three I've collected for myself.

More gun shots ring through, a bullet buries itself into the wall by my ear and I hear Gale shout in pain.

One of the Peacekeepers yells over the group: "Stop, stop, stop shooting, Ergin. You idiot!" And then points his own gun to my head, "Everyone stop moving!"

The room stills at once and Crooner puts his hands up innocently, his eyes trained on the one shouting orders.

Gale clutches his chest and stares up at me in surprise as the Peacekeeper looks around the room.

"Come on, Mencin," Dennis says, holding his own pistol up to the Peacekeepers at the door. They turn back slowly as one of them drags Gale further into the room.

The hunter groans in pain, blood pouring from the bullet wound in his shoulder and a second one on his right leg.

"Let him go," Mencin, with his cropped short silver hair and stern expression, a man use to making the calls, demands and shoves away the Peacekeeper that's got me pinned at the wall, "Tennel, please. Don't make me make you, recruit."

The man looks at me and lets go finally.

I push off of the wall and look around at the men in the room, now appearing as more than just Peacekeepers when you become aware that they've got names and you even know a few of them, "You're not going to kill us?"

Mencin smiles and crosses his arms over his chest.

Most of them shake their heads and Dennis motions to me, "You're going back out there, eh, Peeta?"

"I have to," I say, rolling my shoulders and trying to avoid feeling intimidated by the group at large, "What about him?"

"We'll get him somewhere safe," Mencin says and motions to the thin man that had alerted the Peacekeepers in the alley, "Brethal can treat Mister Hawthorne's wounds. You just be careful, young man."

I nod and pocket my pistol, "Why are you helping me?"

Crooner smiles wide and answers before anyone else can, even though I see other's mouths open, "Even the Capitol has people that are on you're side, Peeta. We're not all mindless soldiers."

_Peacekeepers. Good Peacekeepers. Things can't get weirder than that._

I make for the door, giving them one look back before I drop out into the alley once more.

I follow out through it as quietly and unnoticeable as possible, joining the patterns of footsteps from panicked Capitol civilians that stare at me in shock with gaping mouths and pointing fingers until I reach the City Circle.

Katniss is easy enough to spot from here with her outrageous outfit still on, as she holds onto the rope of a flagpole to get away from the crowd and watches out at something ahead. I can't see what she's looking at so intensely, but I stare as her expression changes from fear, to realization, and then to horror as she drops from the rope and begins to run.

It's there, then. In my head. The image of her running through the crowd, yelling for her little sister.

"_Prim!"_

"Prim!"

"_I volunteer!"_

I couldn't stop her before, standing uselessly with shaking hands and numbing mind, in the crowd of young men like myself as I stared on in fear, watching the girl I'd loved so adamantly sacrifice herself on the stand ahead. But I'll be killed twice and buried rock over dirt if I don't try to save her life now.

I shove the people ahead of me, moving on impulse and muscle memory to bolt after Katniss, swimming through the crowd, fingers first, making my way through them as quickly as she does. But I'm faster than her.

She yells out in horror as an explosion rocks the area before her, bright light and violent flames lash out through the crowd, throwing everything nearby back.

Katniss whips away from the fire involuntarily from the force of it as I throw my body over hers to shield the damage. I feel the tendrils of fire lick over my exposed face, across my back, arms, and wrists as I hide Katniss under me.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	49. Chapter 12 OPTB: His Avox

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hell of a time getting this chapter out. I apologize. And I blame it on lack of comfert. But the situation is resolved.

Once it was, I wrote both this chapter and the 13th of B. Prepare yerselves. It's going to hurt, I promise. And I can't even blame it on Gaga this time...

This chapter is safe, though, readers beware of 13. I guess that makes sense in an ironic way.

Alright, on with my AN. As most of you know, the options will be coming to a close fer ISDP. Soon I will be preparing an author's note to explain exactly what happens next, so expect that some time in the future.

Probably after the Chapters for 13. Ugh, writing B13 hurt so bad.

Umm, what else?

Still on the ginormo Glee hiatus. Yaaay. Ugh. I been playing Mass Effect 3, and clearing through Season 2 of Warehouse 13. That's about it.

Alright, I'll leave you guys to it, thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! May the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

**K (Chapter 46): **"Alright, noted. ^^."

**HG Reader aka HG Love (Chapter 46): **"That's alright, I knew it was you. In response to yer review: It's nice to have readers that take the time to explain EXACTLY what they want. You'll get something like this in Option 1, but that will be up on my website, since Prim won out. But yer right, Peeta can't just jump back in at all, that's not healthy. He needs to have something else in his life first, I think. In 1, I promise you'll see Katniss struggle fer him, that'll happen. You have my werd. Fer the Prim option, she's not even fourteen yet, let alone 'old enough'. So you can see where the other readers conflicts have been. But in order fer that to happen, time would pass. So there's no need to worry about that option. Tho, if Peeta got with Prim, I can't imagine Katniss getting him back. We'll see how that all werks out tho. There will be the awesome love triangle thing, fer sure. Thanks fer the awesome pov and the lovely reviews! Sorry I haven't been responding to these lately. _ I would normally respond asap, but the anonymous stuff gets confusing. But I DO eventually get around to all of them. I also took notes of the songs you suggested, thanks fer that!"

**Anonymousaurus (Chapter 46): **"Epic name, first of all. XP I'm glad you voted fer Prim, it makes sense, doesn't it? I think it's fair to say that she's clearly grown some stronger feelings fer him since the beginning. She was DEFINITELY hinting to herself, of course. And she is a very bright girl. Option C is going to be amusing with them two. ^^** HG Love **did suggest an age change, but I don't want to do something so severely ret-conned. So time will pass. I wish I were the kinda writer to really manipulate things like age changing, but I can't manage to justify that in my head. Nice to see that the readers are reading each others reviews, lol. I always wonder if you guys are aware of each other. Because I sure am. ^^ I was, at one point, with a man that was double my age. So I, personally, don't have issues with it. But trust me, time will pass so that it's reasonable enough. There'll be some 'go chase after boys yer own age' and 'I'm like your brother' moments fer sure. Aww, new, creative, aww. Thank you. I'm going to try my best to make it as natural and reasonable as possible, you can be sure of that. Thank you fer having such adamant faith in me. ^^ And Katniss will definitely be back to cause a rift, I think it'll be interesting to see that struggle happening. And you say Velociraptor? Hmm? That's my fave Dinosaur. ^^ Thanks fer the lovely, long review! I hope I beat you in length!"

**Romance Reader (Chapter 46): **"I'm right there with you! Prim & Peeta! What is that? Preeta? Peetrim? I won't be changing her age, but time _will _have passed, I promise. It won't pass QUICKLY, you'll get to see obvious development. But it will be amusing nonetheless. I love the way yer looking at it. Take the two most positive, powerful characters in HG and smash them together, should be interesting. I'd like to see a girl chase after Peeta fer once. It's getting tiring to have him constantly needing Katniss. He needs to move on in C. The time line will differ, so if you want, I can have kisses in the snow, that sounds adorkable. ^^ Readers are going to see a lot of what Katniss has been through tho. That might help clear out their opinions on her. And I'm glad to see yer reading Option A as well! Thanks fer the awesome reviews!"

**Blank (Chapter 46): **"Pahahahahaha, I know. I'm evil. I'm sorry. ^^; But yer vote has been noted, I promise."

**Abbey (Chapter 46): **"Option 2 won out, so the version with him waiting fer Katniss will be up on my site soon after."

**Abbey (Chapter 48): **"Yer review confused the hell out of me because of the lack of punctuation and presence of odd typos. Let me see if I got this right. You: 'Ok, what's going on at the end of all your options? Peeta is thought to be dead now... except for option C. Which, by the way, shouldn't even be a question that he needs to be with Katniss. But I guess the people who voted don't really have common sense. He has loved her since he was five, he can't just stop 12 years after loving her...It makes no sense. But hopefully your not going in the direction option A, B, and D seem to be going. Love your writing!' is that right? So in response, if I understand you, why do you think in all the options Peeta is thought to be dead? He's clearly alive in D... A, Katniss never assumes he's dead, she just doesn't know where he is. And in B, she thinks he's dead, but we all know he's alive. Yer vote fer Katniss was counted, but Prim still won out. Have you not been reading C? After everything she's put him through, you think it's right fer him to still pander after her? Meh, oh well, the option fer Katniss and him to stay together will be available to read on my site when it happens. So look there. And what do you mean that C will hopefully 'not go in the direction of A, B, and D?' He's still WITH her in all of those. I'm confused. Thanks fer the review and yer input tho!"

**Chrissy (Chapter 46): **"Prim, noted. Katniss and Gale BOTH will be coming back in C at some point. And my website is easy enough to remember. Www . KaKaVegeGurl . Com Easy? Yeah, I thought so. ^^"

**Chrissy (Chapter 48): **"I just love seeing yer reviews! There's nothing better than readers that keep coming back fer more! I thought it was weird, first of all, that there were Peacekeepers in the house at ALL. So I just manipulated it and it werked fer me. Glad you liked my idea of how things went down. Go Peeta! ^^"

**Madi (Chapter 46): **"Noted! It will be up on my website tho, since Prim won. ^^;"

**A Reader (Chapter 46): **"Aww, thank you so much! Have fun reading the entire thing so far? It must be insane to read all of that, there's a lot at this point. P&P has won out C. So thanks fer voting! I would've had them kiss, but I figured I'd let the readers pick first, plus she's still kinda WAY young. There will definitely be some awesome Katniss/Prim moments, fer sure. ^^"

_OMFG I really need to remember to respond more often. LOL. If I don't, things like THAT happen. O.O_

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

It comes down to this:

I wouldn't exist,

Without you, it ain't worth the grind.

I'd fight for one kiss,

On a night like this.

I've got to confess:

Sometimes I'm a mess,

And sometimes I step out of line.

Like this old tattoo,

I ain't shiny or new.

With you by my side nothing matters.

I can save the world,

Since the night your love saved me.

Maybe I can't save the world.

But as long as you believe,

Our love is even stronger,

Than god hoped it could be.

Baby, all it takes is,

Just a little faith in me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12 - His Avox<strong>

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><p><em>It doesn't look good.<em>

I'll admit,_ it looks pretty bad from here. _But it's not like I stuffed the vent in hopes that I, myself, would make it out of alive. I did it knowing that it would better Katniss's chances. That doesn't mean that I'm just going to lie down and die though.

The muttation closest to me curls up to attack and I wait until it's sprung up on it's hind legs before I charge him, grabbing his lower body and throwing him back into the wall.

It howls in pain, upper claws scratching at me and I yank away before he can inflict anymore damage.

The other muttations have begun to fill the room and I look around them. _What ever I do now, I have to do it fast_, it needs to get all of their attention, and, more than anything else, it needs to draw them away from this room.

I'm out of options so I do the only thing I can. I fling myself through the muttations still clawing the entrance, surprising them as I run past, shoving my way between them using my arms to guard the rest of my body from further damage. I feel little tears along my side and legs though and quickly turn back once I break through them to shoot the three closest to me now before clearing down the tunnel way, the muttations rushing quickly after me.

I don't bother to look back as they start activating pod after pod in my wake and I'm lucky as hell not to step on one myself.

Just behind me, a pod unleashes a flurry of arrows onto the muttations and I look back for once, watching an entire row of them collapse to the ground in boneless heaps.

The only thing I have to follow now is my feet and I make my way from the cobbled pavement of pastel orange and pinks, through a small hallway that leads up into a large engineering room.

Muttations have slowed behind me and I'm able to finally take a breath and look around, reaching for the only way out of the enclosed area, a large red ladder, and I begin climbing upwards.

Out onto the streets, I make my way through a small back alley and then take into the first house to my left.

It's a quiet, warm apartment with the lights on in the living room and a tempting smell of... _of all things, bread_, coming from the kitchen.

Which means that someone is still living here, and I've just entered their house.

"Rista, if that's you," A voice says from the front of the house, "I swear I'll cut your legs off for not leaving already, I–"

He stops in the hallway, odd magenta colored eyes going wide and hand moving to his mouth when he sees me, "Peeta Mellark," He gasps in surprise, "What happened to your arms?"

"Quiet," I say, holding my hand up to my mouth in request that he keep his voice down.

He's probably half a head shorter than me, hair a hot chocolate brown, short to his head except the front that lifts up in a sweeping move. His clothes reveal that he's got little to no muscle mass because of the tight dress shirt and black vest with matching pants and large, high black boots that cling to his thin, young frame. _Overdressed for someone staying at home._

Suddenly he smiles warmly and nods, resting his hands on his waist, "I guess someone should've expected the group would end up in their household, I mean, it's not like I haven't been watching you on the news."

I nod, slightly concerned because he sounds nice, but I don't know what kind of Capitol crazy he is, as sensible as Cinna or Portia? Or clueless as Effie?_ As sinister as Snow?_

"I'm Titus," He offers, bowing slightly, "Where's... Katniss? Where's your group?"

"We got separated," I mumble, still sort of nervous and curious. _He seems relatively harmless so far._

The oven in the kitchen beeps and he grins, "One moment, please."

It surprises me, watching him walk over to the stove and open it with the soft pink mitts, that he bakes for himself. I've been under the impression that the Capitol people don't do much at home and that they're served by Avoxes or something of the like.

"Neece, darling, you're hungry now?" He asks loudly, not talking to me, _clearly_, and looks past the kitchen.

_So he's not home alone?_

Another man walks in from the living room, dark, happy eyes and tanned skin. He's thicker, taller than Titus with broad shoulders and I see him nod, not bothering to open his mouth.

_Because he can't speak._

"That's your Avox?" I ask, watching the exchange, slowly catching on.

"Please," Titus says, smiling and waving a hand, "I'm his Capitol brat," He laughs and pulls out the two warm loafs of bread and offers them to the Avox, who nods happily.

"You're hungry too, Peeta, I imagine?"

My stomach growls despite myself as he turns and smiles wide.

"I think you are," He laughs, "Neece, darling, can you prepare the food this one time while I take our guest up and get him settled in?"

The Avox nods and stirs a pot on top of the stove.

"Dinner will be done in about ten minutes," Titus says and takes my arm, "Come with me."

"Uh, first I need to know–"

"Please," Titus says, "Don't embarrass me by asking, Peeta. I was close to Portia," and then his voice lightens and he looks down as he begins walking me through the house, "Best friends, actually."

_Best friends? That's promising._

"You were best friends with my stylist?"

Titus nods enthusiastically, "Oh yes, and I'll do what I can to keep you safe here. So let me get you something to wear, and a towel, and you can shower. Then you can eat. Agreed?"

I agree and walk down the hall with him and up stairs, following him into a side bedroom.

"You just sit down in here and I'll go get–is that blood?"

I look at his hand, where there's... _Blood, clearly. _Just on the tips of his fingers, from him brushing them over my back when he sat me down.

He looks behind me and gasps again, "You're wounded."

"Muttations," I explain, "It's really–"

"You go shower, it's down at the end of the hall, feel free to lock the door if you're more comfortable with that," He says, walking me out into the hallway, he opens another door and pulls out a red towel, handing it over to me before he continues, "I'll get the medical kit and see about those clothes. Alright?"

I watch him rush down the stairs before I walk into the bathroom.

This is more simple than the other ones I've seen in the capitol, with the forty some-odd knobs to choose from.

* * *

><p>"You were saying, about muttations?" Titus takes a seat behind me and cracks open the plastic case in his hands.<p>

I nod, watching the water drip from my hair, "We were down in the sewer tunnels, got blocked in a room by them and I forced Katniss and the rest of the group to go on without me, so that I could stop the muttations from following, it's... It's a long story, Titus."

"That's alright, you don't need to explain. But you keep doing that and you're going to get yourself killed, darling," He says as I feel him begin rubbing something over the cuts on my back, "What about your arms though?"

"I got blown up."

Titus doesn't say anymore after that, cleaning and bandaging my back in silence. I can almost hear his surprise, even though he doesn't say anything.

He finishes, patting my shoulder and standing up, "I'll go see how food is doing, you can get dressed, come down whenever you're ready."

"Titus," I start and he turns to look at me, "Thank you."

He nods, leaves the room without saying anything, and I grab up the shirt, pulling it on before I sit down to get dressed the rest of the way.

When I come downstairs, I'm shocked by what I see immediately across the room. On the large wall of the living room, hung and framed is one of my very own paintings. _Of Portia._

_I even remember selling this one._

It's difficult to stop the watering of my eyes as I move forward to run my fingers over the painting, to stare up at my old stylist. And to know that she's gone forever.

"Don't, don't," I hear Titus chuckle from the kitchen, "He'll be down here any moment."

I turn from the painting and follow the hallway back out to the kitchen when Titus tisks and there's a soft smack.

"You can't leave me alone for a second, come on now, stop."

I walk around the corner and get sight of exactly what he's talking about. His Avox, his _Avox_, leaning over him, kissing his neck.

_They're gay. Together._

I try not to be surprised, to not have my eyes nearly bug out when I see them, but Titus sees me and nearly shoves Neece away.

"I told you, see?" He breathes, his pale cheeks blushing pink as he moves away from the counter.

The Avox turns back, smiling and motioning behind me, I turn, following his eyes across the hall to see the dining room's been set up for three people at the table.

Titus rushes past, grabbing my arm for a moment in reassurance, "I'm sorry, I told him not to."

"I heard," I smile and he blushes even more, glaring back at _his Avox_.

Neece shrugs innocently and walks in the room as well, Titus taking out his seat in offering as the Avox sits down in it.

_He's with his Avox._

I can't imagine what the people of the Capitol would think, it's startling to see, to even imagine how it happened, but I stare at the two as Titus starts to move to his own chair before Neece grabs his arm and pulls him back into a soft peck.

Titus, glaring playfully at him before taking his own seat.

"Peeta," He offers.

I sit down as well and stare at the two of them as Titus starts sorting the food out. Titus, who's the owner of the home, and Neece, who sits there patiently. _And now I have to ask._

"You two are together?"

_It might be inappropriate_, but I'm too curious to let it pass.

Titus stops, raising a brow at Neece, who holds out a hand, offering him to explain. It's a hilarious offering, considering he couldn't himself anyways. But Titus just raises his brow even more and responds, "Alright, I'll do it."

He sits down once our plates are prepared and we begin to eat. He chews slowly, taking the time to explain.

"I guess you're right to speculate," He says, sipping on his drink, "I can't name another person that's with their Avox. Then again, I've never asked."

"The Capitol wouldn't allow it, would they?"

Titus shakes his head, "Definitely not. Not many people can afford an Avox, honestly. But I'm an actor–"

"Acting is a profession?"

Titus's eyes widen and he looks at me in surprise, "Acting? Of course it is," He looks at Neece, who just shrugs, "In movies, right? You know?"

When I shake my head again, he shrugs.

"Well, it's like an art. Painting, or singing, gown designing, stylist, photographer. I act. And therefore, I can afford an Avox."

"And how did you two...?"

Titus smiles, chewing slowly and looking at Neece, "Just lucky, I guess."

Neece made a motion and Titus rolled his eyes.

"Alright, fate, not luck," He turns back to me, "We've been together for four years now. And out of that time only two other people knew. I bet you can guess both of them."

"Portia?" I suggested and he nodded, there was no one else I could think of so I offered, "Cinna?"

He nodded again.

"And... What if the Capitol found out?"

Titus shrugged, "They'd probably kill me. And Neece. But I'd rather die than lie about my love, so that would end there. They probably already know, honestly. But I'm too famous, too known, there's not much they can do unless I announce it to the public. And why would I do that?"

"Brave," I say and he blushes.

"Not really, probably stupid," Titus remarks and Neece gives him a look, "Foolish. But if I'm a fool, then that is what I am."

I nod, watching the two, "And now you're keeping a known fugitive in your home, taking care of him and feeding him."

"It's what Portia would've done," Titus says, finishing his food and pushing his plate forward, "I'll do what I can for you, Peeta. However long you need to stay, anything you need after. We'll do what we can for you."

"I don't want to put you two in danger. You're already in enough without me," Titus smiles and nods, "But a nights sleep or two would be good."

* * *

><p>They give me Neece's room to stay in, since it's normally not used anyways, and I use the next few days to collect myself, to rest and gather back up.<p>

During then, I learn that Neece was originally from District 7, he even knew Johanna. Ironically, the reason he became an Avox was because after winning his games he refused to go along with Snow's terms. He lost his entire family. Three little sisters, his mother and father, before he went completely crazy, took out a few Peacekeepers, including their own head Peacekeeper in 7, before they took him in and cut out his tongue.

I also sat and watched some of these 'movies' that Titus was in, and quickly learned what he meant by 'actor'.

Each day, they looked over my wounds and changed the bandages for me. I can't imagine two more happy people in the world, they're right up there with Annie and Finnick.

_An Avox, and a, as Titus said, 'Capitol brat'._

The Peacekeepers of the Capitol came in twice, both of which times I spent hidden in the vents, listening to them check through everything, and shove around Neece.

The weirder part of it all was hearing Titus pretend to not care, to know that he was over the Avox, to scold him. Acting in movies must pay off there. He could've convinced me if I hadn't seen their home life directly after each invasion.

On the last day, I was preparing myself, loading my gun and putting on the cleaned armor, thanks to Titus himself.

I sat there, lacing up my boots when he walked in and looked me over.

"You can't go out there just like that."

"You have a plan?" I ask, looking up and being surprised when I see that he's already holding something in his arms.

The first object is a warm hat to cover the obvious sandy blond locks. Titus then motions to a slim, gray jacket he's holding before he pulls it on me, over my armor. It reaches down just past my finger tip length and successfully hides away anything that would alert Peacekeepers of my uniform underneath.

Neece hands something over to him and I watch Titus's dark pink eyes flicker across my body before he says: "It's quite cold out there," and wraps a fluffy black scarf around my neck to hide my face mostly from view.

"But you match and they can't question that," He looks skeptically at me before offering: "If you need to get the jacket off fast, throw your arms behind you and pull the back bottom hem, alright? Otherwise you'll have a hell of a time, I know so."

He smiles thoughtfully and turns me around once, "You don't even look like Peeta anymore."

"That's the idea, right?"

"Right," And then he walks me downstairs, "Be careful out there."

I turn back to Neece and Titus, offering my hand up to each in turn, "Thanks for helping me. I hope that soon enough, we'll meet again. And under better terms."

Titus squeezes my hand before I open the door and walk out into the chill of the snow.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I REALLY hope you guys are ready fer 13 of B. /sob

Gosh, I really hope you all are.

DO REVIEW! I will love you ferever. ^^ Hope you enjoyed this calm before the storm.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	50. Chapter 12 OPTC: After the Snow

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option C<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Managed to get this one out in a somewhat reasonable time, yeah?

There will be a big note in D12, hehe, _Mighty Ducks_? Uh, anyways. There will be an IMPORTANT note in D12, _Mighty Ducks_. Seriously tho, there will.

So wait fer that, and please, please read it. It will be a uh... Turning point, fer some certain options. Will have lots of news about what's coming up soon. Some of you readers prolly see this coming, some might not.

As you know, from TBBA (13 Chapters and an Epilogue) and PWPP (14 Chapters and an Epilogue) seems like some of these Options aren't close to ending at ALL. I wonder why.

So wait fer that note, and READ it. Is important.

As fer **me **news, haven't finished ME3 at all yet, I only just got Garrus and Jack, taking a bit of a break from it. My SWTOR Bounty Hunter is like lvl 26? I just finished the 4th season of Six Feet Under, and TristAn an I are almost done with season 2 of Warehouse 13 (he's slow). We're nearing the middle of the Glee 7-week-long hiatus, we're also on like episode 7 or 8 of The Walking Dead season 2. Yeah, I think that's everything.

Also, fun side note, I was into this option so much, writing this chapter, that I got some of C13 done. ^^

Uh, I think that's it! Thank you all fer sticking around, being avid, and talking to me even when I'm not posting up a chapter. It's nice to have such love!

May the odds be ever in yer favor!

Oh, and beware of B13, beeeewaaaaaare.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Time to give the anonymous some love..._

**Blank (Chapter 49): **"I think most readers love B. XP You will kinda find out what happened to 4-5-1 in B13."

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I seem to recognize your face.

Haunting, familiar, yet I can't seem to place it.

Cannot find the candle of thought,

To light your name.

Lifetimes are catching up with me.

All these changes taking place.

I wish I'd seen the place,

But no one's ever taken me.

Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.

I swear, I recognize your breath.

Memories, like fingerprints, are slowly raising.

Of course you can't see me, for I'm not my former.

It's hard when you're stuck upon the shelf.

I changed by not changing at all,

Small town predicts my fate.

Perhaps that's what no one wants to see.

I just want to scream, "Hello!"

My god its been so long, never dreamed you'd return.

But now here you are,

And here I am.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12 - After the Snow<strong>

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><p>"You want me to do it?"<p>

Haymitch nods, his hands on the table in front of himself, staring at me, "It wouldn't be right making Katniss do it. She's... She's not even capable of something like... It just wouldn't be right. Trust me, Peeta."

I hate to ask it, I don't even really want to... _But I do._

"How is she, Haymitch?"

He bows his head, hair greased and fingers nearly clawing at each other. It's not often, seeing him like this, I can easily read into the amount of insecurity he has here. I can see the man that cried for Maysilee on the surface now.

_"I should've been there," he said, tears spilling out on his cheeks, sobered slightly from the shower, "I should've saved you."_

I'd seen more than I should've that night. More of an older man than any boy my age should ever be subjected to. To see Haymitch cry himself to sleep in misery. To understand why he always drunk himself under the table.

It was the start of weaving in respect for the man. But I'd rather have never had to see him suffer like that.

Only Katniss and I can imagine what he'd been subjected to when he won the Games.

And it's painful to know that we aren't the only ones that have been deeply wounded by this war. Haymitch isn't drunk enough right now to hide it from me like he'd prefer, "She's in surgery, but it doesn't look good. She got burned from an explosion in the City Circle, and some muttations... Got a hold of her face."

The image that makes it's way over my vision isn't one I'd like to be directly reflected the next time I see Katniss Everdeen.

I fight back showing him my own affections and nod instead as he shakes his head.

"You should've been there with her, Peeta," He says weakly, through his pain, "I know you had your own reasons, but Gale's not cut out to protect that girl."

"I–"

"You should go and see her."

"I know," I agree, pulling my eyes from the broken man before me, "I will, Haymitch. I planned to. I need to see her, you're right."

Haymitch chuckles, "It wouldn't be right to put a weapon in that woman's hands, trust me. She might kill herself. She might just aim at me. She can't trust me anymore. She hardly even knows who she is, herself."

"It can't be that bad–"

"It is," He says loudly, slicking his hair back with a shaky hand, "It's worse, even."

_Worse._

"She doesn't remember a thing about anything, all she ever seems to remember is that Gale Hawthorne, and he doesn't deserve her," Haymitch shrugs, "She knows some things about me, but I think a lot of who Katniss was... Is gone. Probably for good."

_Katniss, who she was, gone for good._

The same girl that made it through the games with me, the girl that was the only one I could share sympathy of the Capitol people with, the girl that I held nearly every night so that she'd have comfort when she woke up screaming from her nightmares.

"Why am I expected to kill every leader?" I ask suddenly, standing up and staring down at him, "First Coin, now Snow. Haven't I done enough for you people?"

_There's enough blood on my hands already._

"It's symbolic, you know that better than anyone, Peeta." Haymitch says, looking away from me, "I wouldn't ask you if I thought you weren't capable of it."

I nod, "Of course you wouldn't."

He looks up at me finally, eyes relaxing, body calming and laying his hands back down on the table, "So you'll do it?"

"Yeah," I reach out and take his shakiest hand, squeezing it tight and staring into his eyes, "I wouldn't think twice. Of course I'll do it, Haymitch. If Katniss isn't going to be the one killing him, it's only right that I do."

He smiles sadly and bows his head, just as I lean in and kiss it.

He's like a father at this point, an uncle or something. Someone dear to me. Someone that means more than most.

"Take care, Haymitch," I say, walking to the door, "I'll see you in the Capitol, I guess."

* * *

><p><em>She looks good for a girl just out of surgery.<em>

I stare at Katniss from the door of the hospital room for a moment, for a second time, remembering how Gale had been sitting there, just in front of her before. And then I move slowly into the room, taking the seat beside her, holding her hand again.

I kiss the soft, unmarred skin as I fight the tears from welling up.

There's a large, violent scar going up from her right jaw and ear, curving into her forehead. There are burn marks coming in from the back of her neck and I can see them on her fingers as well, traveling up the inside of her arms like little veins.

I see, first, the ring on her other hand's finger, rested on her waist and I can't stop myself from reaching out to touch it.

Her chest slowly rises and falls, eyes shut tight as she sleeps.

"I thought you'd be here."

I turn to the door, hand lightly clenching Katniss's out of reflex as I follow the shadow up and have to force the glare from appearing on my face as Gale Hawthorne walks in to join me by the bed.

"Figures you'd get the honor of doing in the old man," He says angrily, eyes homing in on the quiver and bow that I've shouldered.

"You have a problem with that?" I ask, raising a brow.

He glares at once, anger radiating off of him as he balls his fists, "It's Katniss's kill. You owe _that _much to her."

"_I _owe?" I stand up, taller than him, and look down into his eyes, "I don't think there's anything owed between Katniss and I, save an explanation."

"Of what?" He asks, taking a step back to get me out of his face.

"There's only one thing that doesn't make sense to me. Why's she with you?" I move closer to him, keeping my palms open, keeping the glare from my face still, "She's been confused from the start, I know that, but do you really think you can just keep lying to her like this? You think she won't remember me sooner or later and then put everything that you've been doing to her together?"

"You lied to her first," He tries to justify.

"I think it's safe to say that _that _argument is invalid at this point. After what her and I–"

"She doesn't remember what you did," Gale says suddenly, moving his self between the bed and me.

I have to hide the gasp, eyes widening at his words, "What–"

"About how you forced yourself on her, she doesn't remember that. But _I do_," He does his best to look down on me, even though the height difference wouldn't normally allow it.

"I don't... I didn't force myself on her."

He smirks, crossing his arms, "Keep thinking that. But I know better. You can't fool me, Peeta."

"I don't need to," I say, trying to hide the effect of astonishment from my face, "What you're saying isn't true, so I don't need to do anything to justify myself."

Gale raises a brow and grabs my arm, "Why can't you just accept that you've lost? It doesn't matter if you think you got to her 'first', she married me. And the less you're around, the more of you she's going to keep forgetting."

"Peeta," Katniss breathes suddenly in her sleep.

Gale, despite talking himself up just a moment before, instantly gives me this wounded animal look; like Katniss has literally just kicked him between the legs.

I give him a look of my own, preferably one that's somewhat cocky, optimistic, and something akin to proof-in-the-pudding, "Is that so?"

He turns his head from me, face flaring up in embarrassment and fists tightening.

I take the opportunity to hold onto the upper hand, showing him my back and leaving the room without another word in my honor.

* * *

><p>I hold the bow tight in my grip, staring the snake down as they set him out for me.<p>

In the corner of my vision, I can see Finnick and Annie standing together, their fingers intertwined as they both stare at him.

Gale stands by Katniss, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at me.

Katniss herself, however, has her own eyes on me as well, but with a look of confusion, wonder, and maybe jealousy. She'd rather be where I'm standing, here to deliver the final blow.

Above us, I can see Boggs, staring proudly down, smiling in only his eyes. Haymitch, sober and smirking more obviously. Effie and Katniss's prep team are huddled together against the top railing over-looking the giant crowd in the City Circle below.

There are guards and Peacekeepers, leaders of the rebellion, and interspersed are common soldiers, citizens of the Capitol, and victims from the districts alike.

The camera crews are trained on both me and Snow as I raise the bow and arrow supplied in my arms.

_He's a corpse already. He's bound to die soon. This is just for... Relief. Justice._

It doesn't really matter what happens to him right now, he'll still die in the end. But it's important to the people, what kills him now. What I do today will be represented and recognized throughout history for years and years to follow.

_I was holding the back of the arrow so close to my cheek that it caressed the soft, invisible hairs over my skin. It could've been ticklish if the feather of it wasn't so completely stiff. I felt my tongue wanting to glue itself to the floor of my mouth, the soft serenity of the forest around calming me._

_I watched the sparse snow fall, slowly and patiently through the leaves. And a piece of it had to have landed on my cheek as I felt the wet of it become a bead of water when it reached the heat of my skin. It dripped down quickly, sliding over my throat, and dying in the collar of my shirt._

_The silence around was sharp and I enjoyed the feel of the taught string pulled under my hand. I thumbed the bladed tip of the arrow before my fingers as I waited patiently._

_Katniss was as still as a statue by my side, she sat unnoticed by everything around, but I enjoyed knowing that she was there. I could hardly hear her breathing, but she took a deep one to let me know, it was the only way she could communicate at this point. Because, if she made even the smallest move, she'd startle our pray. My pray._

_I let the breath out silently, felt my arms numb with it, my chest tighten up despite that it should've loosened instead. And then I released the arrow with it._

This bow is tighter than Katniss's father's bow that I'd hunted around with, learned with, in the forests behind her home. And I can feel the strong, new, young string pull tight down the length of my arm.

I haven't been able to take my time and aim, slowly pacing my breaths, in a while; not without my heart racing, adrenaline pumping as I strive to keep myself alive. It's been years, it feels like, since I've trained my eyes on the prey long enough to recognize the details surrounding. Painting out an image before me.

The diluted trail of blood and spit running down his chin as he hacks and coughs his life out. The soft flecks of snow landing on my bangs and hands, wetting them, as the camera crews tighten in anticipation.

Cressida herself, talking feverishly into her microphone, staring into the camera as her eyes flicker over to me from time to time.

A hushed silence falls over everyone as I wait, as I pay them each attention, as I steady my arrow center on Snow's flushed forehead.

Out of the corner of my eye still, I can see Finnick's eyes wide, hand squeezing Annie's own tight.

Snow's own granddaughter in the crowd by Johanna and Beetee, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail, her still, cold eyes staring at me. What must she think about me killing her grandfather? _What am I, to her?_

And then there's Katniss again. She's seen me shoot my bow recently, she knows the superior aim that I have gained through time.

It's like I can hear her steady breath from just behind me almost, taking the deep one to let me know that I have it. I can see her bitting her lower lip from this spot, as she stares at me, silently mouthing 'now'.

I center my eyes on Snow at last as he smirks, granddaughter staring at me, and I let out the heavy breath, frost forming from it before me, glistening in the rays of light from the bright sun.

The burden releases from my chest at last and I feel that familiar ache, numbness in my arms as I release the string and let the arrow fly.

_The rabbit was struck before I could blink and was thrown through the wet leaves of the forest floor when the blade of the arrow hit it directly in it's side. The small body was slung like a rag doll, lifeless, incapable of struggle or disagreement against my attack._

That doesn't happen to Snow though. He isn't some small, unguarded little rabbit.

With his hands tied securely behind his post, the arrow lodges into his head at once with a sick, dull thud, his neck jerking back lamely, and he's stilled once the point sticks him into the wooden post.

The crowd is strongly silent, but only for a moment and they start swarming the center of the area, filling in the space between Snow and I.

I catch sight of his granddaughter once again, eyes not even watering as she nods and turns her back.

Cressida makes her way to me first, throwing the microphone to my mouth with a: "How does it feel, Peeta Mellark, finally ridding Panem of such a tyrannical threat at long last?"

I raise my hand up to her as the crowd rushes forward. I drop the bow at once and back away from them quickly, turning and leaving, making a quick flee into the mansion behind me without a single word to them.

_I'm done with the press_. I've had enough interviews with them and I've moved on from being the spokesperson of the rebellion. _They can find someone else now. I'm... Retired._

"Peeta Mellark!"

I stop as the voice trills through the large room, my own traitorous legs stilling me as I turn at the voice to stare over the strong frame of one Katniss Everdeen.

Her scars are soft, pink, in the light, long brown hair braided back as she makes her way over the marbled floor, soft boots clicking and she offers her hand out to me, "Katniss–"

"Everdeen, yes?"

She smiles and nods, "You know my name?"

"Of–" I stop, closing my mouth and staring at her, I can't help my eyes widening at her complete innocence, "Of course I know your name, Katniss."

Haymitch wasn't lying. Neither was Gale.

"_**She hardly even knows who she is, herself."**_

"_I–" she smiled, confused still, "I," and then she shrugged and held out her hand, "I guess? We've never properly met, have we?"_

"_**She doesn't remember what you did... About how you forced yourself on her, she doesn't remember that."**_

_I stared at the hand, and felt the chill bumps rise over my skin, the fear settling in, "Katniss?"_

"_That's right," she grinned wide, "You know my name?"_

"_**And the less you're around, the more of you she's going to keep forgetting."**_

"_I..." I swallowed as my stomach dropped and I had to fight the tears prickling, "Of course I know your name, Katniss."_

She may say my name in her sleep, but she doesn't remember me at all. _Does she even remember me lying to her? Pretending I hated her?_

"Who doesn't, I guess," She says, "I never talked to you after you saved my life that night in the rain, it feels like forever ago. But, well, I'd like to be friends."

_Friends._

_She doesn't think she's __**ever **__talked to me. Again._

My heart winces, curling in upon itself as I stare into her deep, empty gray eyes. Void of recognition and void of memory._ Void of care_.

I take her hand and shake it, watching her eyes still there and stare at them together, "That sounds... Nice."

"It's weird," She says, blinking as she continues to shake my hand, eyes widening, probably remembering something, _again_. "I feel like I've done this before."

"Me too," I agree, finally pulling my hand away.

_Me too._

It's like the time spent trying to push her away and fighting with her has been completely for naught.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	51. Chapter 12 OPTD: To Find a Cure

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option D<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**EVERYONE PLEASE READ!**

**I KNOW IT'S LONG, BUT READ EVERYTHING!**

Ehem, I hope that got everyone's attention. I'm sure that there are a few people that will still pass it up, but meh, I tried.

I have a few things to address here, so I want EVERYONE to read carefully, maybe twice, and feel free to ask me ANYTHING, once you've read the entire author's note.

**FIRST AND FOREMOST: **The interview **will **be happening SOMETIME soon, so start submitting any and all questions NOW, you can wait until Option B's epilogue, but no later please.

**SECOND:** Some of you may have noticed that my fanfics don't get much longer than 13 chapters. And you would be right.

Now this poses a question. There's obviously still a lot more to happen in some of the options... "How could you wrap that up here without it feeling rushed like SuCo did?"

The answer is: "I'm not."

And here is how...

Option **A and B **will stay here in ISDP. B will most likely end with Chapter 13 and an Epilogue. A will continue on until concluded. Possibly until Chapter 16, 17, 18, iuno. We'll see how that one goes.

What happens with **C and D**? In ISDP Option C+D will reach the 13th Chapter, and then have an Epilogue. And THEN...

**They will continue as a separate unit in the FOURTH book. Yes... Fourth.**

The name will be revealed in the interview, as usual. KEEP READING. Yer not done yet.

"How is this going to werk?" You, confused reader, may ask.

Hunger Games is coming up, we all know that. And we're all going to be watching it, that's why we're here now.

**So I'm not going to be updating this fic again until two weeks after THG.**

This will give readers the time to go out and see the movie and enjoy it. I can't watch it 15 times because it's a long ride to the theater, so make sure you do that fer me a good few times.

**NO CHAPTER 13'S UNTIL APRIL 9****TH****.**

I know, it sucks, it's painful, I know, I'm sorry. I know.

During this time, I will post a couple of notes, one with my responses to reviews from anonymous readers, and a **new author's note **with a link to my full review of the movie, fer ALL to read and enjoy. More details in that note, of course. That will be the next thing posted after D12.

But FOLLOWING... **On April NINTH, **I will post up ALL of the Option's 13th Chapters.

The week after (**April 16th**): Option A Chapter 14 and P14 will go up. Then, followed close, **Option B will conclude with it's Epilogue**.

After which, Option C and D's Epilogues of book 3 will be posted within the next week (End of April). You all should have in yer questions at this point because my interview will be posted no more than a week after D's Epilogue.

**Once the interview is up... I will be on hiatus. Fer a month. Which means... May 28****th**** ish.**

I'm planning all of this out now so that yer all forewarned, so that I'm forewarned, and we're all on the same page.

**Please keep reading! SO MANY BOLDS.**

What will I be doing during ALL of this time? Writing other option's chapters, Option A chapters, further C and D, preparing my site fer MORE options, and werking on my trilogy.

What can YOU do during this time, during the like... 2 month wait?

You really don't have to wait, not at all, if you want some content from me that's HG and OS related. I have things FER YOU during the hiatus-es.

I'll still be right here, with all of you, on the computer, looking over this fic, taking notes, doing research, making graphics and everything._ I'll be here._

**So this is what I want you to do:**

Go onto Tumblr. (If you don't have an account already, make one)

I know it's a pain in the ass, but I've got something special fer my biggest, most avid readers and supporters. And you all know who you are.

Speaking of, do let me know WHO you are, that'd be nice.

The tumblr page to go to then will be** 'TPIHG' dot Tumblr dot com**. That's 'T' as in 'Tips', 'P' as in 'Painted', and 'I' as in 'Intricate'. HG is obviously fer Hunger Games.

If you go there now, you will clearly see that it is passwerd protected (you can go ahead and try to guess it, but that's ill-advised, and would be pointless). The Tubmlr will become actually ACTIVE on** April 9th**. So once the Chapter 13's are posted.

I'll be on mostly in the early morning est time. From about 4:30 am est to 1:30 pm est. So just drop in to say hi, or chat and talk and stuff. We can jabber back and forth about the movie, sure. We can stay in touch. There will also be nuggets fer viewing and voting and stuff.

**Here's some examples:**

My art of HG, drawings and graphics.

Old notes.

Development of the site.

Input and first hand view into various OTHER options and HG projects of mine (Option E, F, S, Z... Adler side stories, Titus and Neece side stories, something to do with Haymitch, something to do with District 13, a crossover fic...)

ALSO: The first five or so chapters of Only Skin, art I've drawn of my book, and open conversation about it.

This all is _**very **_personal, which is why it's going to be a little bit harder to get to than usual. People that join the tumblr page and submit and talk, will get these things out of me.

**Once the wait is over... On May 28****th**, I will hopefully have a healthy stack of Option A and P to dish out until they're done.

And after A+P is done, the fourth book of **C and D will begin**. I'm not sure how long it will be, but I imagine it'll be werth the wait fer some of you.

This is something I've been planning at fer a while, so I hope you guys enjoy. I'm not going to be sobbing and saying my last werds here, KKVG will be around fer a while. There's lots of options to explore, alternate povs and such. So if you stick around with me, you at least know that I write good, I care, I respond, and I keep promises.

**THIRD, and last I think: **I mentioned it a few times. The interview. If this is yer FIRST time being around before an interview has happened, this is how it werks:

In an email to me, kakavegegurl at hotmail (you can add me to msn), or a review, a comment on facebook, a pm on here, a TWEET, anything (you can find any and ALL this info on my site www . Kakavegegurl . Com), you can do any or all of the following:

Request a scene.

Request a short.

Or a fic.

Or a side story.

A pov that you'd like to see something, anything in.

Ask a question, personal or about the books, about my fics, the songs I pick, daily life, favorite shows or games, ANYTHING, I don't know. The floor is open.

**There will also be, in the interview, the name of the fourth fic, and a sneak peak into Chapter 1 of C and D.**

I think, I think that's all. Deep breath, deep breath. Phew.

**Now, if you STILL, STILL haven't submitted a character fer Option D, feel free to do so, YOU STILL CAN. If you want ANOTHER, that's cool too. You can also submit people from the other Districts as well.**

See you all after next note! You know where to find me tho, I'm prolly on there right now.

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Are these times contagious?

I've never been this bored before.

Is this the prize I've waited for?

Now as the hours passing,

There's nothing left here to ensure.

I long to find the messenger.

Is there a cure among us,

From this processed sanity?

I weaken with each voice that sings.

Now in this world of purchase,

I'm going to buy back memories,

To awaken some old qualities.

Have I got a long way to run?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12 - To Find a Cure<strong>

* * *

><p>"Careful, careful," The doctor says, holding his arms out to calm everyone, "Lift him together."<p>

"Don't bump his head," A nurse mutters half-heartedly.

_He's so small._

The doctor looks away and closes his eyes, "He's too small."

"He's not going to make it."

"What's your name, darling?"

"Lan," The little boy says, his fingers struggling to grip mine back, desperately holding onto his only anchor.

"Lan," The nurse repeats to him, looking into the his eyes as he nods to confirm it, "This is going to hurt, Lan. Are you ready?"

He nods again, baby fat under his chin as he refuses to look away from my eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks, eating through the dried blood and dirt.

Katniss joins the group of nurses and doctors in the containment room with me, rolling down the sleeves of the thick nurse sweater she's adopted for her own safety, "Can I get some gloves, Melvin?"

I watch Lan blink as the nurse pushes a large needle into his shoulder. He winces, starts to cry more, loud this time, and I move around to get out of the doctor's way.

Katniss powders her hands and takes up a pair of gloves offered from one of the nurses, pulling them on easily and folding them over the end of her skin tight sleeves carefully before joining the group at the table.

I stand back behind Lan's head, staring down at him and running my free hand through his hair, clearing the bangs from his forehead and eyes.

Katniss hands me a bowl of warm water, "Clean his face," She suggests, her eyes lingering on mine as she gives me a small task to busy myself for the moment.

Lan breathes shakily and the nurse takes the arm that's lifted, holding onto me still.

"You need to let go of him, Lan. We need you to lay still and he should really get you cleaned up, alright?"

He starts to fight, but I free my hand from him with little effort and rest both palms upside down, on his pale cheeks, forcing him to calm.

"I'm here, don't worry," I say to reassure him and he closes his eyes, nodding and trying to control his breathing, "I won't leave you alone."

I pull my hands away, watching his eyes open to stare as I yank off my own gloves. I grab up the cloth from the bowl, cleaning his cheeks and forehead, his little neck and dark brown hair as the doctor cuts his shirt open.

Katniss checks his slowly and carefully over his mouth, gums, teeth and tongue, and then his eyes.

"I wish my mother were here," She mutters to herself.

The boy below me stares up, crying still, cheeks flushing, "Everything is burning."

"Shit," The main doctor curses, putting down his tool, turning around with two of the nurses and I hear him say to one of them: "If he's hot already, he might not even have hours, let alone days to keep this poor boy alive."

"What?" Katniss asks, looking back at them.

The doctor stares at her and then me, an expression of obvious regret on his face, "He might have minutes at the most if he's this far along. Possibly because he's so young."

Lan, confused, starts looking around at us as Katniss pulls her arms from him, her eyes widening, and then she backs away.

"Is something wrong?" The small boy asks nervously.

"No," I answer quickly, looking back down at him and combing my fingers through his wet hair, "Nothing's wrong, Lan. We're–"

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" He asks, his big gray eyes staring up at me, puffed and pink from crying, water filling them still as he blinks.

Katniss lets out a soft sob from her spot nearby.

I try to shake my head, watching the tears fall down the sides of his cheeks, disappearing into his hair and ears. Lying to him would be wrong though, but I don't know what else to say.

"It's okay," He breathes, his little body shuddering, hands clinching at his sides. "I'm not scared."

"You aren't?" I ask as my vision blurs and burns and I'm unable to hold back tears of my own, "Why not?"

I can barely tell he's smiling as he says: "I'll be alright."

The doctor removes his own gloves nearby and washes his hands quickly, leaving this room to help someone else;_ someone that might actually live_.

Lan reaches his hand up to grab my fingers again for comfort as a strong shudder rocks his small frame, "I'll be with my mom. I'll be safe."

"That's right," I agree, my voice shaking with him as I squeeze his small hand in my grip.

He closes his eyes as his chest starts taking in deep breaths, "You're a giant," He says, smiling wide, "Your hand's are bigger than my head."

His little cheeks are becoming more red, sweat pouring down his face and chest in rivers and streams, as far down to his legs as I can see, soaking the table below him.

Katniss walks slowly, carefully over to me and hides her face in my shoulder.

"I've always wanted to be giant, like that," Lan breathes. He seems to go still suddenly and then his heart monitor begins to race.

His body starts shaking violently, one arm flailing about, knocking over things, a glass jug of alcohol smashing on the floor, a cup of q-tips, a pile of gauze and a few cutting tools while the other hand grips tightly onto mine.

He thrashes for a only a moment, eyes opening wide, lips stretching as he gasps out in pain, coughing up a mouthful of blood and then he collapses, the heart monitor voicing his passing in a loud continuous beep.

My free hand, touching the side of his head, is covered with his blood.

"Peeta?" Katniss pulls away in shock.

I can feel the wet, cold spray on my face, on my lips... In my eyes.

"Katniss," I turn to her as she starts to move in but I back away quickly, holding up my hands, "Don't come close. Don't, Katniss."

She stops, hands covering her mouth in shock as a bead of blood drips from my right brow.

"Shit!" The same doctor from before yells, moving into the room again and rushing to me with a fresh, wet cloth, "Clean what you can. Don't touch anything."

I take the wet rag with my own shaking hands, wiping my lips first and then around my eyes, my face. The rag isn't wet with water though, it's alcohol, and I breathe it in, allowing the sanitary smell to fill my lungs, trying to keep my fear hidden.

Katniss's eyes water as she stares at me in shock.

A few nurses come in, putting their hands up to start hooking me in but I shake my head.

"Don't," I say, refusing the treatment, "You don't have a cure, watching it's effect on me is only going to render me useless. I'm fine for now."

The doctor grumbles angrily, "You're carrying the disease now, you–"

"I know," I shout, glaring at him, "And I know it's transmitted through blood and human fluids, right? Which means spit, feces, semen, probably sweat and tears, through open wounds, eyes and mouths, right?" He nods, "I'm fine. I won't touch anyone. I won't even kiss my wife. But I'm not going to just sit around here to die. I've got things to do."

Katniss sobs into her mouth and starts to move close again.

"Don't!" I put my hand out, still covered in blood to keep her back, "Katniss. Don't."

She nods and motions to the door as I wipe my hand clean.

"Your nose," One of the nurses says and I look at her.

"What?"

She motions to her own and I raise my fingers, wiping under my nose and pulling my fingers back to see the blood, _not mine_.

"We have a shower you can take," The doctor says weakly, watching me clean my nose and put down the rag near Lan's body, "At least do that. I also want Katniss to watch your every move, do you understand, Peeta? And don't touch anything. Let her."

I agree to his terms and take off down the hall, into one of the side rooms that a nurse shows me with her own orders to put my clothes in a side bin, and that she'll be back with new, clean ones for me to wear once I'm done.

Katniss opens the door for me and turns on one of the showers as I begin stripping off my shirt. She watches in silence, tears on her cheeks as she takes a seat.

I put the clothes into the bin as ordered before turning back to look at my wife.

"I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, "You didn't know."

"Katniss," I say, staring at her as I back up under the shower. I watch her as I scrub down my entire body, the door opening at one point and Katniss turns to take my clothes, setting them down in her lap and waiting patiently.

She shuts the shower off for me when I'm finished, and hands over the folded pile.

I dry my hair, tossing the towel in with my old clothes as I pull on the new shirt, struggling into the underwear and pants.

Katniss is quiet during the entire thing, all the way until we're back in our own room.

She takes a seat in the middle of the bed, backing to the headboard and staring at me as I sit down a few feet from her.

"I want to kiss you," I say, feeling honestly... _Normal_.

She nods silently and stares at me.

"It's up to them now. They have to make the cure for this, Katniss."

She nods again.

"I love you."

"I love you," She says finally, her voice weak and low as she wipes tears from her eyes, "So you saw it? You saw the muttation."

"Yeah," I confirm, "I got him pretty good too, he's big. Like a dinosaur. Finnick and I think he's the beast from the seventy-fifth games. And I shot him in the reproductive organs."

She laughs through her crying, body enclosed tightly around her stomach, "Did you?"

"He offered them. I think it's a shot his grandchildren will be feeling for years to come."

"Lets hope he doesn't **have **grandchildren," Katniss says, smiling sadly as she then looks hopeful, "You said... Finnick?"

"Yeah, Finnick and Annie were part of the large group of people we saved."

"Were they–"

"No, they're both safe," I close my mouth for a moment, "I need to get back to them, they're still waiting for the 'okay' from me."

Katniss nods and stares, "That mutt, you think he'll be back?"

"Maybe, maybe not," I shrug, "He could very well die from the wound I inflicted, if they went up into him in any way. The position was good enough that the bullets could've pierced a few other vital organs."

Katniss nods and reaches out to touch my hand, "We'll get some search teams to track his prints. A muttation that big, running around in fear and pain, probably left a good trail."

"I'll go," I offer and she starts to shake her head, "I'm already done, Katniss. I'm in danger from his venom, the best I can do is offer up myself to go out there and find this thing and try to save the other people infected. Besides, so far it's had the most effect on women, sick people, and L... And children."

She looks hesitant, but she nods again, "I want to go with you, but I doubt you'd agree to that."

"Of course," I say and take her hand in mine, "Stay here with their chemists and learn as much as you can. Compare sizes, just talk to them. We'll make it through this. I'm a perfectly healthy young man, I've got at least a week or two, maybe three before anything even starts showing. I'll be fine for now."

I lean forward to her, taking the shoulders of her shirt and lifting the center up over her mouth.

She starts to object in confusion, "What–"

But I press my mouth to hers before she can say anymore.

She stills, shocked probably, mostly, and then wraps her arms around my neck and kisses back.

The cloth of the nurses sweater was specifically made to be worn around victims of this particular disease, it resists the invasion of liquids and still breathes like cotton, so I allow the innocent kiss to deepen considerably before standing up from the bed.

Katniss pulls the shirt back down and stares up at me needily from her huddled position, "Be careful, please. **More **careful."

"You too," I say, reaching down, shifting my hand down her front and brushing my palm over her stomach, "Take care of our son. I'll be back as soon as possible, hopefully with exactly what we need."

She nods, planting a soft kiss on my fingers before letting them go as I make for the front of the house.

Ben stands outside the door when I open it and he smiles, nodding to me, "See? I didn't even need to knock, hello, Peeta."

"Ben. Did you need something?"

"Well," He says, looking back behind him, "We've been informed of the people above. I wanted to know what your thoughts on it were. You were fairly adamant about keeping away political contamination from Thirteen."

"They're not coming down, yet," I speak hesitantly, watching him, "They can stay up top in the town for a while, right?"

"That sounds fine."

"We have to go out and get that muttation, Ben. I can go out alone but–"

"There'll be no such thing," Ben says, raising his hand, "The group's up top, waiting for your company. They'll join you. I know you're... Infected now. It's imperative that you go after that cure, Peeta. We can't afford to lose you, you're invaluable at this point and I'd sooner lose my brother. All decisions any further will be put on hold until your immanent return, is that clear?"

I nod, "Crystal, sir."

"Please," He chuckles, grinning, "Ben, again. We'll send up provisions to the victims, at once, and do what we can here. You do your job, alright?"

"Right," I agree, "Thank you."

He nods and pulls his hand from his back, revealing a new set of armor, "Get dressed and uh..." He takes the gun from his arm and his own firearm from his side, "Take mine, they're well broke into. They might suit you better on the field, I think."

"Thanks," I grab the gun and shoulder it as he hands over a few magazines.

"What's this?" Katniss asks, walking up behind me, "Are you joining the hunt?"

Ben's eyes meet mine and then he gives it an actual thought, "That's not such a bad idea. Kurgan's going already, but I think I could join you."

I start to hand him back his gun but he holds up his arms to me.

"No, I'll go get a new one, you keep these. Get dressed. I'll see you out there in ten."

And then he walks away.

Katniss's eyes meet mine, wide and amused, "I was just joking."

I find myself smiling as well, "It's Ben, what would you expect, really? And Kurgan's joined the group as well. That should make things interesting."

"What do you think of their rules?" She asks suddenly, "Do you think it's right, how they work things?"

I walk back into the room, closing the door and beginning to pull the armor on, "It's not _wrong_, I'm sure of that. I like seeing it in action though. It's amazing how different they are than Thirteen. It's like an entire one-eighty."

Katniss helps me, putting the magazines in my side pouch and shifting the armor on my chest, "Yeah, it's definitely better than Panem's idea. Be careful, Peeta." She starts to lean in to press her lips to mine but I catch her before she can, grabbing her shoulders and jerking her away.

Her eyes open in shock and she gasps, "Oh, I'm sorry," She covers her mouth, "I... I forgot."

"You're okay, don't worry," I reassure as her eyes start tearing up, "Katniss? You didn't kiss me, it's fine."

"I know it's fine," She breathes, nearly shouting as the tears pour down her cheeks, "But I shouldn't **have **to worry about it at all about kissing my husband."

"I know," I say, moving in to hold her close as she cries, "I'm sorry."

She begins sobbing hard against my chest, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me tight.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," I run my hand through her hair and kiss the top of her head, just above her bangs.

She pulls away finally, nodding and wiping her eyes, "You should go."

"I love you."

Her eyes open, the gray orbs rolling up to stare at me, "I love you, be careful," She says as I open the door and back out of the room.

"I will."

The hallway is already full of people from Adler rushing up with provisions for the people on top, their arms heavy with blankets and coolers, changes of clothes and large jugs of water. _Ben works fast_.

I join the sea of them, which is easy enough because they're all moving the same way I intend to, and it's only a matter of moments before I'm out of Adler and walking onto the porch of the familiar old, worn down house.

Finnick and Annie greet me at once, spotting me from across the road, and waving as they both walk carefully together, smiling as they come in close to talk.

"It's about time," Finnick says, releasing a breath, but I raise my arms and back away from him before he can take my hand, "What's wrong?"

"Don't touch me," His eyes widen, his other arm wrapped over Annie's shoulders but I shake my head to interrupt any of his assumptions, "No, it's not you, Finnick. It's _me_.I'm infected, I got it earlier."

His eyes widen in surprise, "No."

"I did," I confirm, "We're just going out in a team right now; to find the muttation before it gets too bad. Katniss thinks that if we can get it's venom, we can make a cure. So we'll be back sometime–"

"I'm going with you."

"No you're not, Finnick," I back away further, "You need to stay here with your wife. Look, they'll give you provisions. They'll give you clothes too, so just take what you need and wait out for me. Grab a house, a room for yourselves and don't let anyone touch you, you hear me? Even if they didn't get bitten or anything."

Finnick stares at me with wide, worried eyes, "Are you going to be alright?"

I shake my head again, "Probably not, I don't know. But we have to move fast. I'll see you soon, Finnick. Hopefully."

He looks saddened as I join Kurgan and Ben, Tooney and the rest of our group from before.

Steady puts up his hand and gives a weak wave to me, "Nice to see you back, Peeta. How do you feel?"

"Better than ever," I respond, the tall girl in front of me looking back and smirking.

"Not gonna let a bit of bad blood get you down?" She asks.

"Not at all," I reaffirm my health and she nods.

We set out as a group, weighted down with gear and weapons as we trudge out into the woods where the bodies still hang like strips of meat from the limbs, careful of where we step and what we walk under.

Together, we begin to follow the large muttation's violent tumble through the forest.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Omg that's the longest AN ever. *passes out*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	52. Movie Review and other Important News

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Author's Note<br>**

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>New Note:<strong>

As promised, I wrote a HUGELY long review of the movie. It was awesome and amazing, of course. _**A few funny side notes before I give you the links.**_

First, TristAn (fiancée) HATES the books. But he loved the movie.

Second, his grandparents came to see it with us and they both LOVED it. They've never read the books, but they seemed quite aware of everything, and understood it all. They weren't confused at the end.

Third, we spent more on dinner afterwards. The movie tickets were 5 bucks a head, no tax (20 bucks). And our dinner, fer FOUR people, was 75 dollers. And the food tasted like SHIT.

Fourth, the little town we were in sold out 200 tickets in the first weekend, which is ABNORMALLY amazing fer them. It took us two hours there, and two hours back. We left here at 9:30am and got home at 7... The movie was at 2. ^^; That's a day dedicated to The Hunger Games.

Oh and fifth, I got an HG poster. TRISTAN PICKED IT OUT, Mr. Hater. And then he was like "This AWESOME poster, we should put it up in the room". Psh.

Now fer the links. There are THREE. The first is easy as HELL if you just want to go there, it'll be easier fer you.

The first is on my site**. www . KaKaVegeGurl . com** It's in the updates, on the right side, easy enough to find. (that's the only version that has my bold and italics)

The second is Deviantart, here: **http : / / kakavegegurl . deviantart . com /journal/The-Hunger-Games-Review-With-maybe-spoilers-Iuno-292414315**

The third is Tumblr, here:** http : / / cammerel . tumblr . com /post/19952226867/the-hunger-games-movie-review-might-have-spoilers**

Hope you enjoy reading it, you can respond here if you like.

~KKVG (A)

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><p><strong>Old, But Still Important Note:<strong>

**EVERYONE PLEASE READ!**

**I KNOW IT'S LONG, BUT READ EVERYTHING!**

Ehem, I hope that got everyone's attention. I'm sure that there are a few people that will still pass it up, but meh, I tried.

I have a few things to address here, so I want EVERYONE to read carefully, maybe twice, and feel free to ask me ANYTHING, once you've read the entire author's note.

**FIRST AND FOREMOST: **The interview **will **be happening SOMETIME soon, so start submitting any and all questions NOW, you can wait until Option B's epilogue, but no later please.

**SECOND:** Some of you may have noticed that my fanfics don't get much longer than 13 chapters. And you would be right.

Now this poses a question. There's obviously still a lot more to happen in some of the options... "How could you wrap that up here without it feeling rushed like SuCo did?"

The answer is: "I'm not."

And here is how...

Option **A and B **will stay here in ISDP. B will most likely end with Chapter 13 and an Epilogue. A will continue on until concluded. Possibly until Chapter 16, 17, 18, iuno. We'll see how that one goes.

What happens with **C and D**? In ISDP Option C+D will reach the 13th Chapter, and then have an Epilogue. And THEN...

**They will continue as a separate unit in the FOURTH book. Yes... Fourth.**

The name will be revealed in the interview, as usual. KEEP READING. Yer not done yet.

"How is this going to werk?" You, confused reader, may ask.

Hunger Games is coming up, we all know that. And we're all going to be watching it, that's why we're here now.

**So I'm not going to be updating this fic again until two weeks after THG.**

This will give readers the time to go out and see the movie and enjoy it. I can't watch it 15 times because it's a long ride to the theater, so make sure you do that fer me a good few times.

**NO CHAPTER 13'S UNTIL APRIL 9****TH****.**

I know, it sucks, it's painful, I know, I'm sorry. I know.

During this time, I will post a couple of notes, one with my responses to reviews from anonymous readers, and a **new author's note **with a link to my full review of the movie, fer ALL to read and enjoy. More details in that note, of course. That will be the next thing posted after D12.

But FOLLOWING... **On April NINTH, **I will post up ALL of the Option's 13th Chapters.

The week after (**April 16th**): Option A Chapter 14 and P14 will go up. Then, followed close, **Option B will conclude with it's Epilogue**.

After which, Option C and D's Epilogues of book 3 will be posted within the next week (End of April). You all should have in yer questions at this point because my interview will be posted no more than a week after D's Epilogue.

**Once the interview is up... I will be on hiatus. Fer a month. Which means... May 28****th**** ish.**

I'm planning all of this out now so that yer all forewarned, so that I'm forewarned, and we're all on the same page.

**Please keep reading! SO MANY BOLDS.**

What will I be doing during ALL of this time? Writing other option's chapters, Option A chapters, further C and D, preparing my site fer MORE options, and werking on my trilogy.

What can YOU do during this time, during the like... 2 month wait?

You really don't have to wait, not at all, if you want some content from me that's HG and OS related. I have things FER YOU during the hiatus-es.

I'll still be right here, with all of you, on the computer, looking over this fic, taking notes, doing research, making graphics and everything._ I'll be here._

**So this is what I want you to do:**

Go onto Tumblr. (If you don't have an account already, make one)

I know it's a pain in the ass, but I've got something special fer my biggest, most avid readers and supporters. And you all know who you are.

Speaking of, do let me know WHO you are, that'd be nice.

The tumblr page to go to then will be** 'TPIHG' dot Tumblr dot com**. That's 'T' as in 'Tips', 'P' as in 'Painted', and 'I' as in 'Intricate'. HG is obviously fer Hunger Games.

If you go there now, you will clearly see that it is passwerd protected (you can go ahead and try to guess it, but that's ill-advised, and would be pointless). The Tubmlr will become actually ACTIVE on** April 9th**. So once the Chapter 13's are posted.

I'll be on mostly in the early morning est time. From about 4:30 am est to 1:30 pm est. So just drop in to say hi, or chat and talk and stuff. We can jabber back and forth about the movie, sure. We can stay in touch. There will also be nuggets fer viewing and voting and stuff.

**Here's some examples:**

My art of HG, drawings and graphics.

Old notes.

Development of the site.

Input and first hand view into various OTHER options and HG projects of mine (Option E, F, S, Z... Adler side stories, Titus and Neece side stories, something to do with Haymitch, something to do with District 13, a crossover fic...)

ALSO: The first five or so chapters of Only Skin, art I've drawn of my book, and open conversation about it.

This all is _**very **_personal, which is why it's going to be a little bit harder to get to than usual. People that join the tumblr page and submit and talk, will get these things out of me.

**Once the wait is over... On May 28****th**, I will hopefully have a healthy stack of Option A and P to dish out until they're done.

And after A+P is done, the fourth book of **C and D will begin**. I'm not sure how long it will be, but I imagine it'll be werth the wait fer some of you.

This is something I've been planning at fer a while, so I hope you guys enjoy. I'm not going to be sobbing and saying my last werds here, KKVG will be around fer a while. There's lots of options to explore, alternate povs and such. So if you stick around with me, you at least know that I write good, I care, I respond, and I keep promises.

**THIRD, and last I think: **I mentioned it a few times. The interview. If this is yer FIRST time being around before an interview has happened, this is how it werks:

In an email to me, kakavegegurl at hotmail (you can add me to msn), or a review, a comment on facebook, a pm on here, a TWEET, anything (you can find any and ALL this info on my site www . Kakavegegurl . Com), you can do any or all of the following:

Request a scene.

Request a short.

Or a fic.

Or a side story.

A pov that you'd like to see something, anything in.

Ask a question, personal or about the books, about my fics, the songs I pick, daily life, favorite shows or games, ANYTHING, I don't know. The floor is open.

**There will also be, in the interview, the name of the fourth fic, and a sneak peak into Chapter 1 of C and D.**

I think, I think that's all. Deep breath, deep breath. Phew.

**Now, if you STILL, STILL haven't submitted a character fer Option D, feel free to do so, YOU STILL CAN. If you want ANOTHER, that's cool too. You can also submit people from the other Districts as well.**

See you all after next note! You know where to find me tho, I'm prolly on there right now.

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)


	53. Anonymous Reviews and News

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Review Responses<br>**

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Quick note:<strong>

Just wanted to drop in with this, and say hi to everybody!

Couple things, first is that I'm done with all of the 13's and the epilogues, just have to write Chapter 14 of A and P, and then boy, whew... I can get started on the interview... Some questions and requests have already been submitted, but come on people, don't be shy. ^^

Also, I'm curious what OTHERS thought of the movie, so feel free to share yer review with me!

And lastly, the FIRST person to send me a personal message... NOT A REVIEW, but a PERSONAL MESSAGE on here, with the werd 'Onlies' in the message, will get something SUPER special in regard to my Original Trilogy. Why 'Onlies'? Well, Onlies are people that like Only Skin, you know... The fan werd. So if yer one of those, go ahead. Hit me up.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Fer those that have responded anonymously lately...<em>  
><strong>

**HG Reader/Lover (Chapter 50): **"Yeah C!Katniss isn't rly in the best of ways, but those things will be cleared up in the option that'll be on my site. I'll probably even do some back scene in her pov, to clear the confusion up. I know it feels weird accepting PxP now, but there are three other options in which Peeniss happens, so I'm not letting it bother me. The Katniss version will still exist. Right? There was a lot of P+P foreshadowing going on, but I always intended on PEETA'S side to feel really brotherly. But there's something to be said about 'a boy and a girl, eventually something's GOING to happen. No matter what'. And everything Katniss has been doing has definitely made it easier fer Peeta to try and move on, fer himself. Prim being there fer him in these times has been an important factor in making them a pretty powerful couple. I'm glad to see yer an optimist and that yer not judging before reading. That's important, I think. As fer yer concerns, there are a lot of things that happen without you guys, Prim sees Katniss often, as does her mother. And Katniss has come out MUCH better than in the books, she wasn't in the City Circle, right in the explosions face. Peeta's hesitating at all was in hopes of her getting over him, and him moving on from her. Haymitch didn't scold him, he's just releasing knowledge of his own personal regrets. He's a pretty torn up man about everything. I have a hard time with Peeta's height all of the time, and JHutch doesn't help."

**Chrissy:** "I'm sorry. A lot of chapters will make people sad? I don't mean to do it tho. And I can't even stand to think of Gale, he makes me sick. If I wanted to rly screw things up, I'd just kill him off. But he's a nice barrier right now. He'll come into play soon, too."

**Marumeep: **"That's alright, you don't have to login. I'll get around to you one way or another! And yeah, the late chapters are rly pulling on people's heartstrings, I'm sorry. "

**Lauren: **"Well, thank you much. And everything is explained in my author's note in the last update, so feel free to read there fer any info about updates in the future. There's not rly a day of the week, tho I'm trying to get things back on A schedule of some kind. XP"

**Romance Reader:** "Yeah, I couldn't believe it when I saw the review had reached six pages on my WerdPerfect! Longest review fer anything ever, I think. I like yer idea of Prim's night mare, yer right. Or at least changed the order, rly. the punch was missed, but stinky feet were an okay replacement. And yer right, it is EASY to overdo drunk, and he didn't. He was perfect. Yer also right about the lack of Hunger, huh, didn't think about that at ALL. Wow. I guess it became The Survival Games fer a couple hours. Yer right about the ointment scene, it was so intense, that kiss had NOTHING on it, but I suppose Peeta is like that, staring, caressing, but I'm glad the cave scene wasn't long. I didn't want the movie to be ALL romance... Glad to see what my readers think of the movie! Sorry fer the long wait tho! Just SEVEN more days."

**Avalon: ** "Thanks fer the critic! I'll take it into consideration. I'm glad to see that yer liking it tho, I'm a bit amazed and flabbergasted. Rly like that yer enjoying it. I'm glad that you reviewed at ALL, not many do. It's a shame. But thanks fer the lovely werds and taking the time to drop by and share them with me! I will always be writing!"

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><p>That's all fer now, see you guys in seven days!<p>

~KKVG (A)


	54. Chapter 13 OPTA: Nightlock

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hey there everyone. It's April 9th. ^_^

Option P Chapter 13 is already up on the website! The rest of the chapters will be coming up shortly. I just wanted to get this one out early to start the ball rolling.

Any news or content stuff and reviews to anonymous readers that I haven't responded to will be in Option D's authors note. However, I believe I have something to give you to hold down the fort while I start responding to reviews fer the morning.

Go ahead and go over to the tumblr page. **'TPIHG' dot Tumblr dot com**. That's 'T' as in 'Tips', 'P' as in 'Painted', and 'I' as in 'Intricate'. HG is Hunger Games.

What's the passwerd? Well, it's KaKaVegeGurl. It IS Cap sensitive. What isn't these days?

On the top bar there is a place where you can submit yer own things as well, to the page. Feel free to submit anything there (Hunger Games related, my fic related, or my BOOK related), whether you want to promote something, to be a comment on something I posted, a request or question, anything.

This will give us something to do during the hiatus and stuff. I'll be posting up THREE items each day. Whether it's an excerpt of werk, art I've made, a poem, or a link to something, the floor is open fer discussion.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

The winter here is cold and bitter,

It's chilled us to the bone.

I haven't seen the sun for weeks,

Too long, too far from home.

I feel just like I'm sinking,

And I claw for solid ground.

I'm pulled down by the undertow,

I never thought I could feel so low.

And, oh darkness, I feel like letting go.

If all the of the strength and all of the courage,

Come and lift me from this place,

I know I can love you much better than this,

Full of grace,

Full of grace,

My love.

"It's better this way," I say,

Having seen this place before.

Where everything we say and do,

Hurts us all the more.

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><p><strong>Chapter 13 - Nightlock<strong>

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><p>I'm surrounded by doctors and nurses in the haze of the morphling. Through the numb, cotton walls of the drug, I hear them mention 'burns' to me and I confirm at once, nodding and closing my eyes to stop the white roof from spinning above me. <em>Of course there are burns now, I remember.<em>

Even though everything that happens after that is sheer, complete agony, and there are tears stinging my eyes and streaming down my cheeks,_ I'm sure_, I'm glad that I'm still alive to feel the pain. I'm grateful that they don't put me under completely.

I don't know how long they work on my body, it must be days though, but they feed me intravenously for the most part, and just about everything else that happens in my hospital room is unpleasant. Between how painful it is to breathe and the means of using the bathroom, nothing is what I'd enjoy reliving again.

More than once, I try to ask them how Katniss is. And, more than once, they answer that she is 'fine' and that I should worry more about myself. But that doesn't actually tell me how she really _is. _For all I know, 'fine' could mean that 'her heart is still beating out a steady rhythm'.

One of the people taking care of me during this time is Katniss's mother, Celeste. But I don't bother asking about her daughter when she's around, or even showing her that I'm capable of forming words.

She already looks miserable as she treats my arms and combs back the hair from my eyes with her soft, motherly fingers, while making shushing sounds. I don't want to strain her anymore if she's worried about Katniss. It's nice enough to have her there each day though.

Eventually enough, Haymitch comes to visit me. I don't actually _see _him walk in, but one morning when I open my eyes, he's just sitting there already; holding my hand. He nervously pretends to be looking at the scars on my arms when I open my eyes and stare at him.

I have to fight laughing because it's so typical of him. The only person that I know that's afraid of showing a softer side in front of his loved ones, when they're alone. Even Katniss isn't _that _bad.

"Dr. Aurelius says you're doing much better," He starts, clearing his voice and looking up at me in concern, trying desperately to mask it, "How do you feel?"

"Physically," I start, hearing the soft rasp of my voice due to lack of water, "I'm okay, I guess. I'm glad I don't have a left leg though, at least that one doesn't hurt as well."

He chuckles.

"But mentally? I really don't know, Haymitch," I watch his shaking hands scramble with the bottom of his shirt, "My mind feels so used at this point, I don't ever know what to really think. I'm trying to do what's right. But everything is a mess."

Haymitch nods and bows his head.

"One thing I've decided though," And he looks up again, "A lot of bad things have happened. And I don't know what's right or wrong for most of it. But I know that you and Katniss both care about me and it's not worth hating either of you over anything that has happened in the past two years. It's not worth holding a grudge against the only people closest to me. I've almost died... So many times. I'm just tired now. I'm so tired of everything. And I don't want to live the rest of what little time I have with so much anger in my heart."

"I'm sorry, Peeta," He says finally, reaching out and taking my hand again, this time in front of me, "It wasn't right that you and Katniss had to pay for our freedom."

"Don't, Haymitch," I interrupt him before he can say more, "You don't have to apologize. You got both Katniss and I through the games twice. I don't think any other mentor can say that."

He nods, even though he looks like he disagrees with something still.

Dr. Aurelius comes in then and Haymitch drops my hand once more, "Good morning, Peeta," He says, folding back a piece of paper over his clipboard, "How do you feel?"

"Hundred percent," I respond, turning my head to him, "How do I look?"

He smiles, "Hundred and fifty. You're walking today, think you can do that?"

I nod, burying my palms into the sheets of the bed and lifting my upper body at once. Haymitch makes to help me, but stops himself before he can get far enough to be noticed by anyone else but me.

Carefully, I push my left leg with my right so that they both fall over the side of the bed and I can set the two odd feet on the floor below.

Dr. Aurelius stands with his hands overlapping in front of him, watching me patiently.

I'm wearing nothing more than a light blue pair of shorts and can see that there are clear scars licking up from the backs of my right leg.

"You were burned badly from the explosion, when you protected Katniss in the City Circle. Our surgeons did what they could with what was left, but there's only so much they can do. Your lower back and leg got the worst of it," Dr. Aurelius says carefully, "Your hair is fine though, they managed to save that for the most part."

I can't even bring myself to care, I could be riddled with scars from my head to my toes and not be able to tell where my lips are, and I think I'll be fine. _I just can't stop worrying about–_

"How's Katniss?" I ask, looking at the good doctor.

He smiles and nods, "She's fine, wandering around the halls and throwing fits, but she's alright. She keeps irritating her own scars though."

"She's stubborn," I say, smiling back and standing up finally.

Haymitch does with me and seems to relax as I take the few steps towards Dr, Aurelius, standing firmly before him.

"We have a mirror over–"

"I don't need one," I answer at once, "I'm fine. I don't want to see them, okay?"

He nods and hands over a pile of clothes, "Do you think you can get dressed on your own?"

_I don't_, so I turn to Haymitch and he smiles sadly.

"I'll help him."

The doctor leaves then, closing the door behind him and Haymitch reaches out, taking the items and setting them on my bed as I remove the shorts I've been wearing.

He offers his shoulder to me to grip onto for support, holding out the underwear so that I can carefully step into them, then the pants, and I pull my shirt on as he rolls the socks up over my feet.

"We've got a call today, it looks like some sort of meeting with Coin, I think," He says, pulling my shoes on and tying them securely, "Are you alright to go to it?"

"I'm fine," I answer, watching him as I take up a tray of food they'd set out for me, munching on the sliced orange and chunk of chicken and gravy, "Is Katniss going to be there?"

"Is that all you're going to ask about?" He frowns.

I shrug, "Well, I already know that you're fine. You two are the only people that matter to me, really."

He looks away, frowning still and shrugs as well, "She might be."

* * *

><p>I take a seat with Haymitch, carefully looking around the table at Johanna, Enobaria, Beetee, and Annie. It takes me a moment, but I manage to string together what we all have in common fairly quickly. <em>We're all winners from the Games<em>.

"What's this?" Katniss asks when she joins us at last and looks to Haymitch for an answer.

"We're not sure," He says, "It appears to be a gathering of the remaining victors."

Her eyes widen in surprise, "We're all that's left?"

"The price of celebrity," Beetee comments, holding his hands out to us, "We were targeted from both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol."

"So what's **she **doing here?" Johanna asks, glaring across the table at Enobaria, who smirks in response.

"She," Coin starts as she comes in from the door directly behind Katniss, "is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal. Wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors's immunity. Katniss has upheld her side of the bargain, and so shall we."

"Don't look so smug," Johanna says to Enobaria, "We'll kill you anyway."

"Sit down," Coin requests as she closes the door and I can feel something radiating from her. I can see it in the expression of cold anger as she stares down, "please, Katniss."

I watch as she takes a seat by Annie while Coin looks around, standing superiorly over us and I turn away to look at Katniss from across the table.

"I've asked you here," Coin starts, "to settle a debate. Today we will execute Snow. In the previous weeks, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem have been tried and now await their own deaths. However, the suffering in the district has been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims."

_No._

"In fact," _no_, "many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who held the Capitol citizenship."

_No, __**no!**_

"However," She says as the victors around me look up at her in horror, "In the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this."

Katniss's eyes suddenly flick up to look into mine and I see them move to look a bit higher, _at my forehead? At my hairline? _Then they meet mine again.

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus it has been agreed that we let the victors decide. A majority of four will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote." Coin looks around at us like an eagle sizing up a worm, "What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have another Hunger Games using Capitol children."

My fury and anger burns at once at her preposterous idea._ This woman didn't have to live through the Hunger Games, didn't have to see it happen, or fear for her own child, her own life. Who's she to even suggest such a thing?_

"Are you joking?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"No," Coin answers back at once, "I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept a secret for your own security."

_**Yeah, I bet.**_

Haymitch leans forward and asks: "Was this Plutarch's idea?"

Coin shakes her head, "It was mine."

_Of course it was. __**That bitch. **__Of course it's her suggestion. She's never even experienced the games and she has the gall to think up this catastrophe?_

"It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life." _**Oh yeah, of course, that's reasonable. **_"You may cast your votes."

"No!" I shout, nearly standing up, staring at her with as much control as possible, trying to fight myself from ripping her head from her shoulders, "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

"Why not?" Johanna asks in annoyance, looking at me, "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

_That's more of a reason not to._

Enobaria nods, "So do I. Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

I try to argue commonsense with them, "This is why we rebelled! Remember? Annie?" I ask, looking desperately at her.

Her eyes are wide and fearful, but she agrees, "I vote no with Peeta. So would Finnick if he were here."

"But he isn't," Johanna says coldly, "Because Snow's mutts killed him."

_The one that can't tell the difference between what's real and not real and the insane girl are the only ones voting reasonably?_

"No. It would set a bad precedent," Beetee disagrees, a sensible man, one that I'd argue is probably smarter than the rest of us, "We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No."

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch."

Katniss nods, keeping her eyes from me, "I vote yes," _no_, "For Prim." _That's exactly why you should vote 'no'._

_**She's so far beyond repair, she's insane.**_

"Haymitch," Coin says, "It's up to you."

"Haymitch," I shout, looking at him, "You can't do this. You can't do this to these poor people, they're innocent. Most of them don't understand–"

"I'm with the Mockingjay," He says and I feel the guilt and betrayal wash over me.

It's everything I can do to keep my hands from his neck. I stand up, slamming my palms on the table and leaving the room before I do anything stupid.

Outside, I turn into a corner and bury my head against the wall, trying to calm my breathing, trying to stop the visions flashing quickly by. Prim's name being drawn during the reaping, joining the Careers at the Cornucopia, fighting Cato back as Katniss ran with the bow, painting myself into the mud, waking up to Katniss unconscious on the floor of the cave, bleeding out of her forehead.

I remember how we were in the forest in District 12, as she taught me to use the bow, how she begged me, when I woke up after hitting the force field and had to try and stop her from crying, swimming for clams and giving Katniss the pearl, killing Brutus before the arena exploded.

I try to keep the memories after that from my mind, being tortured by Snow, having these lies put into my head.

A hand touches my shoulder and I turn to him, punching him in the jaw before I can stop myself.

Haymitch staggers back and I shake my head.

"I can't believe you," I say, staring down into the miserable man's eyes for a moment before taking in a deep breath and walking by him, joining the throngs of people walking out into the City Circle.

I keep my eyes on the center as Katniss walks out and holds her bow calmly at her side, her eyes wandering the crowd.

She wears the armor, the suit that Cinna made for her to appear as a guide in the rebellion, as the Mockingjay. I see the scars visible on her neck and arms, mirroring mine, the only real thing I must've protected with my body was her own back and legs.

I watch her so closely that I see when her eyes change, darkening, and I realize the expression of fierce, unimaginable determination at once. Carefully, I make my way through the people closest to her as she raises the bow and arrow. I see her change it's destination and I can only guess that she's aiming at President Coin instead of Snow as the arrow is released, the crowd gasps, and there's a thud.

_I don't disagree with the action_, of course. Coin is more a threat and Snow is already going to die. It's best she takes this opportunity while she's in position to do so. But I disagree with her next event planned.

"Goodnight," I hear her say as I reach out with my left hand to stop her, grabbing onto the pouch on her shoulder before I do anything else, wrapping my arms around her afterwards as her teeth sink into the soft area between my thumb and forefinger.

It hurts, but it's nothing compared to the piercing fear in my chest.

She stops in surprise, pulling back, staring at my hand as the blood trickles down and then she looks up at me angrily, "Let me go, Peeta!"

"Never," I say in response as the crowd of people around us start pulling at her, yanking her out of my arms and ripping the nightlock berry from her shoulder before anything worse can come of it.

A guard drops it on the ground and stomps the little death pill into the dirt.

Katniss lashes out then, yelling in anger and frustration, thrusting her stomach outward to try and free herself, arms shaking and twisting and trying to get away from them. Her right leg lifts as a guard grabs her up around her waist to carry her away and she slams the heel of her boot into the center of my chest, knocking me back into a mess of people.

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	55. Chapter 13 OPTB: Red Snow

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option B<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Oh gosh, I hope you guys are ready.

I don't even want to sway from this chapter. I have nothing left to say here.

Just... Just read on.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Memories are just where you leave them.

Drag the waters, 'til the depths give up their dead.

What did you expect to find?

Was it something you left behind?

Don't you remember anything I said, when I said:

"Don't fall away and leave me to myself."

Don't fall away,

And leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again.

Leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands.

Love lies bleeding.

Oh, hold me now, I feel contagious.

Am I the only place that you've left to go?

She cries, her life is like:

Some movie in black and white.

Dead actors faking lines, over and over and over again she cries:

"Don't fall away and leave me to myself."

Don't fall away,

And leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again.

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><p><strong>Chapter 13 - Red Snow<strong>

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><p>The snow hits my face like a blanket of insults, flecks of clear white ice biting my cheeks.<p>

I make my way with the quickly rushing crowd, following them. Most seem to be walking in a general direction and I can't help the racing of my heart as the people begin to thicken, and become slowly infected with the presence of Peacekeepers.

I take to a side alley to make some distance and am immediately surprised to find the next main street consisting of rebels and their medical group huddled together for warmth, staring out ahead of everyone.

One of the men standing nearby, gun held tight, reaches out and grabs me but I quickly hold up my hand to stop him, pulling the scarf down to reveal the rest of my face.

"Peeta Mellark?" He breathes in shock when his eyes move over my features and I see that it's one of the men from 13, one of the trainees in the program that Katniss, Johanna and I were in, "Where's the rest of 4-5-1?"

"We got split up," I say, pulling the scarf back over my mouth, mostly because it's cold, "What's going on here?"

"They have kids up ahead," The rebel says over the struggling on the streets, "Snow's keeping them held captive as his personal shield. It's insane. Kids, children."

A flicker of blond hair, a girl talking to one of the other medical staff members, catches my attention and I reach out to grab her by the shoulder of her uniform before she can move away and I turn her around to look at me.

"Prim?"

Her eyes widen as she stares up, terrified at first before gasping and grabbing me in a strangle hold when she realizes who it is, "Peeta!"

"Don't yell too loud, someone might hear you," I gasp, surprised but pleased at her enthusiasm, hugging her back just as a loud explosion suddenly rocks the ground and people of the group start shouting in fear and surprise.

"Those children!" Someone yells nearby and Prim pulls away to look as the medical group begins rushing forward.

"I have to go with them," She says, starting to join the group.

I grab her by her shoulder again and hold her back, "Oh no you don't, Prim, you shouldn't even be here."

She turns back and glares, "Let go of me, Peeta. I'm old enough to go out there, it's my job now. They need me."

"They have plenty of people, from what I can see. And Katniss would kill me if I let you go out there." I say, glaring back, "Not this time kid."

"Peeta–"

The second explosion rocks us both and I'm looking at her this time, watching the expression of horror dawning on her face, the paling of her cheeks, the watering of her eyes.

And then I raise my brow, "See what I mean?"

She nods, moving forward, her arms stretching out, shaking and grabbing onto me for support.

I hug her back, taking her up and leading her away from the chaos of the streets, through one of the back alleys.

Suddenly, someone darts by the entrance and I stretch out my arm to catch the gloved hand, mostly out of reflex, the moment I see the long braid trailing behind her.

"Hey there, sweetheart."

Katniss stops at once and looks back in shock, eyes widened and watered, cheeks flushed from the cold.

"Peeta?"

I nod and her eyes fall on her little sister.

"Prim! What are you doing here?"

Prim looks nervously up at me, eyes red and puffed from crying.

I pull off the hat, tossing it to the ground and letting the scarf fall with it, suddenly feeling too warm. I'm about to yank the jacket off as well when I become aware of the sounds of the street, silent then but for a pair of panicked footsteps running towards us and I see everything just a moment before it all happens.

"Katniss!" The man shouts, trying to reach us, the soles of his feet digging through snow, the panting of his breath loud and hard as he runs, "Duck!"

He shouts because he wouldn't have reached us in time, _even his shout is too late to stop anything_.

The first bullet catches Katniss in her right arm as I move forward, back faced to the man and I feel the next two impacts, one nicking my left cheekbone, just passing through Katniss's hair and the second one hits home in my lower back.

It's the second that rules out my legs and I'm landing against my will, unable to hold myself up anymore.

"Peeta!"

My hand stretches out to grab Prim and Katniss down, to cover their bodies from view of the shooter, to guard them again with myself.

Finnick Odair screams from behind us and I hear a large, violent hit, someone falling into snow and then the bronze-skinned man is rolling me over on my stomach to pull the jacket off, to get to the wound, "Don't move, Peeta."

I want to tell him to grab the hem of it, as he yanks angrily, but I can't find my voice until I mutter out: "Like I could, if I wanted." And the pain is so intense in everything, cheek stinging, but I can't feel my leg at all, can't even feel my waist.

Prim sobs near me, her little hand under my face against the cold snow, holding a cloth to my cheek and I can see out of the corner of my eye that it's covered in blood against the white, frozen fluff.

_I take too many shots for these women, way too many. Titus was right. One of these times, I'm going to get myself killed._

Katniss's gray eyes stare down at me, tears spilling on my right ear, neck, and jaw, almost tickling the skin. One of her hands is squeezing tightly onto her shoulder, where her own bullet wound is. I can see the blood seeping between her gloved fingers.

"Are you okay?" I numbly ask her, shivering in the cold, she nods but more tears just spill over her cheeks.

Light sparks through my vision, blurring the two most important women in my life for just a moment and I feel light-headed at once.

I hear Katniss sob violently suddenly, watch her free hand cover her mouth as she stares at me.

Prim's fingers shake against my cheek.

Finnick's saying something, slippery, bloodied hands turning me over and pain shoots through my back, I feel my leg suddenly numb over, "Peeta, Peeta?" I can see his eyes, widened in fear. His hands touching my cheeks, covered red, clashing against the sky, the crisp white clouds and snow pouring down from above.

_The rest of the group reaches us then_, I think. _I can see Jackson, Tooney, Castor and Pollux, Homes, Cressida, and Leeg 1 circling us as the light sparks filter through again, nearly blinding me as I reach up to touch them._

_Katniss's hand is gripping mine so tightly but I can't see her face anymore, I can just hear her sobs._

_I can hear Prim saying something to her, the little girls voice shaking nearby._

_And then I can't hear anything at all anymore._

* * *

><p>"Hey there, sweetheart."<p>

I stop when I feel the hand grab a hold of my own and look back to see of all people–

"Peeta?"

I'd just been going off the thought that he was dead, draining what energy I'd had left to get to Snow and take him out before I completely lose it, but seeing him now refuels me.

He's wearing a thick hat to cover his hair and a large black scarf wraps over his mouth, confusing at first, but I'd recognize those eyes anywhere, even in mud. Only then do my eyes reach the blond behind him, clutching onto his arm in fear.

"Prim!" I shout before I can stop myself, turning to look at her completely, "What are you doing here?"

She stares up at Peeta then for support, of course, and I can tell that she's been crying. But he just takes off the articles covering his face and hair from sight, dropping them down into the snow at our feet as if in response.

Suddenly Finnick shouts from behind me and I become aware of the previous situation, _running from the Peacekeepers, splitting up from the rest of the team and getting the attention of the guards, making as much distance as possible,_ "Katniss! Duck!"

I start to turn to see what the situation is now, but I'm too slow and I see the Peacekeeper with his gun pointed, shoot, and my arm rears painfully, the force of the bullet nearly knocking me back off of my feet.

If it hadn't though, Peeta did, moving between the Peacekeeper and I, grabbing Prim with him as well and I hear two more shots. I watch the expression of pain register on his face as a red line appears suddenly across his cheek, just below his beautiful, sparkling, intense left eye.

He collapses at once against me, hands dragging Prim and I to the ground with him.

"Peeta!" I shout, trying to stop him from falling, hands reaching under his arms, confused because I don't know where the second bullet hit. But I see the back of his light gray jacket begin to blossom with blood at once.

My eyes dart up as he rolls over on his side to look at me, as I glance quickly around in search for help. I see Finnick slam his knee into the Peacekeeper's gut, yanking his gun away, though it's much too late now, and clubbing him with it before rushing to us.

"Finnick!" I shout, "He's been shot."

His eyes widen at the blood pooling in the snow before he shoves Peeta over to yank violently at the jacket.

"Can you do anything?" I ask him and his brows furrow.

"Maybe, I don't know how it could've hit him though, his armor–"

"Prim?" I ask and she nods.

She opens one of the pouches on her waist and pulls out a thick pad of cloth, pressing it to Peeta's cheek to stop the blood pouring out. Her hands shake as she blinks back tears and she turns to me, "I'm sorry, Katniss."

_Sorry for what?_

"Don't move Peeta," Finnick breathes, hands grabbing the torn spot in the armor, where something had clawed through before the bullet, a muttation, maybe. Finnick takes note of it before ripping outwards and up to expose the wound, his entire waist, backside and tan shoulder blades.

Prim reaches out to look at the hole over his spine.

"Like I can, if I want," Peeta slurs and I see the blood ooze up from the center of his lower back, rising and pouring out like thick strings of syrup.

I don't realize it until I'm forced to wipe the tears dripping from my eyes, but I'm crying.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asks, I feel his hand touch my cheek and I look into his eyes, watch them stare past me for a moment. Blood spills from the left corner of his mouth and I can see the red, pink creases in his teeth.

"It's too late," I hear Prim say, watch her lips shake.

"He's not making it," Finnick agrees, "There's too much blood, Katniss. Even if he did, he'd be paralyzed at least."

I watch the blood leak from Peeta's back, slipping down his sides in long rivers, the snow around us turning red and then pink. _He's lost far too much blood. He's not going to make it._

_They're both right._

Finnick turns him back over when he gasps and coughs in pain, "Peeta?"

"Peeta!" I hear Prim shout from beside me, her hands grabbing his chest, eyes wide.

Jackson reaches us then, pulling up her field communicator and shouting into it, "We have a man down here, we need immediate assistance."

"Don't bother," Finnick breathes from my side, hands covered with Peeta's blood as he wipes his brow, "He's gone."

Leeg 1 covers her mouth and I hear her sob.

I reach down and take Peeta's hand in mine, feel him squeeze back as he turns to look at me, his empty eyes staring when he stretches his arm up and brushes the hair back from my eyes.

"Beautiful," He says, lips closing and the crease between them is red with his blood.

_Prim says something to me, I think it's my name, but I can't be sure._

_Either way, my life is over._

I reach down and touch the wet blond hair, then I close his eyes for him as his body stills against the snow.

_Against the snow._

_I've lost the boy with the bread. I don't know how I did. He's... He's been through so much, lived through so much... How could I lose him?_

Just yesterday I was struggling to keep it together because he'd sacrificed himself to save us from the muttations.

Just yesterday we were crying because we'd lost our child, because he'd lost his arms.

Just yesterday we'd been unable to be near each other because of Gale's death, we'd fought because I'd tried to have sex with him, we'd made out in the warmth of my old home, just after hunting out past the fence.

* * *

><p>"<em>So that's it?"<em>

_I turn back as I finish tying up my boots._

"_That's what?"_

_Peeta smiles and looks me over, his eyes half-lidded, smiling at me._

"_That's what?" I ask again when he doesn't respond._

_He moves before I can turn around and I feel his hands circle my waist, his lips pressing close to my neck as he moves my braid to my front._

"_I've probably drawn you in this outfit as many times as I've drawn flowers on the cakes at the bakery."_

"_And?" I question as his lips suck softly at my shoulder._

"_You're beautiful."_

_I turn to look at him, feel his hands touch my side, "Peeta–"_

"_I love you," He breathes, leaning in to kiss me, tongue brushing over my lips and waist pressing close to mine._

_I tangle my hand in his hair, getting lost myself, feeling the dizzy thrill as my guts lurch and twist nervously. It's something I've never felt before. __**Excitement**__._

_Peeta pulls back and looks into my eyes, "Katniss–"_

_I press my lips to his again, demanding, needing more. Needing his strong frame to hold me still, needing his hands to keep me up because I can't keep myself up anymore._

_His right hand grips my waist as the left moves. I start to feel slightly nervous, being reminded of Cato in the arena._

_But Peeta's hands don't feel like his. __**Peeta's hands are slow and soft, and press into my flesh to excite me more, not to scare or harm me.**_

"_Can I touch you?" He pants against my mouth as he breaks the kiss._

_**And he asks permission.**_

_I open my eyes, looking into his, so sincere and happy, so full of love and respect. And I don't feel nervous anymore. I feel like I need it, just as much as he does. So I nod in allowance._

_His hand covers my right breast, over the shirt, as he leans in to kiss me again. Our bodies move together at once, backing up to the bed and he falls on top of me._

_I feel his weight, unsupported for the most part, but I don't feel held down at all._

_To be honest, with what I do feel, __**I've never felt like this before. **__Not once have I felt so completely safe with anyone, besides for my father. And since he died, I haven't felt complete. Secure._

_**Happy.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

B is NOT done. But this isn't 'fake' or 'a dream'. This _really_ happened.

He's dead. _Really dead._

But B isn't over.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	56. Chapter 13 OPTC: Old Wounds Open

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option C<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Don't ferget to read the Option D note. But I won't hold you back from reading, go ahead and enjoy!

May the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

When will I see you again?

You left with no goodbye,

Not a single word was said,

No final kiss to seal any sins,

I had no idea of the state we were in,

When was the last time you thought of me?

Or have you completely erased me from your memory?

I often think about where I went wrong,

The more I do, the less I know.

Gave you space so you could breathe.

I kept my distance so you would be free,

And hoped that you'd find the missing piece,

To bring you back to me.

Why don't you remember?

Don't you remember,

The reason you loved me before?

Baby, please remember me once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13 - Old Wounds Open<strong>

* * *

><p>Katniss smiles nervously up at me when I don't let go of her hand, her gray eyes flickering in confusion, "Is something wrong?"<p>

"I love you," I say before I can stop myself, my heart beginning to hammer uncomfortably in my chest, "I've loved you for so long, Katniss, since the day I first saw you. I would've died for you. And I can't live or go on without you knowing that. I can't just sit back and not try to help you remember me."

Her eyes widen as I speak, but she doesn't back away or try to remove her hand from mine as I grip it tightly.

"Gale will never love you as much as I do, he hasn't shared the moments we have, he hasn't sacrificed his life for you. And you haven't done the same for him," I reach my free hand up and touch her face, "I've tried to hide it from you before, but I'm not going to, not this time."

"I don't–"

"He's lying to you. You have to know that, Katniss. You have to remember me."

"Peeta," She looks more confused, her eye brows knitting together as she starts to move close to me. She doesn't even seem to be paying attention to her own movements.

"Please, Katniss."

"Peeta," She breathes into my face as her eyes search mine, "I don't know you. You can't possibly love me–"

"Do you remember the games, Katniss?" I ask, grabbing her up in my arms, stopping her from moving anymore, "You remember going in with me, and helping me out of the mud, you remember giving me sleep syrup so you could cure my blood poisoning and–"

"No, I don't. No," Katniss yanks herself free from me finally, backing out of my reach, "No, I don't remember anything like that. I don't think I've ever even talked to you, Peeta–"

"Katniss!"

She turns, her eyes setting on Gale, who's just joined the large room, a worried, angry look on his face, and she runs to him.

"Gale," She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him close.

His eyes reach mine as he holds her, "I'm here, Katniss." He glares coldly as he leads her from the room.

* * *

><p>"Rotten luck," Johanna muffles as she sits in her bed, slowly sipping from the cup in her shaking hands, "Can't say I didn't warn you."<p>

"You didn't warn me," I _do _say, pulling her cup away and setting it down, "You don't look any better than the last time I saw you, Johanna."

"Because I'm not," She pulls the cup back, "I'd be better if they upped my supply of morphling."

I shake my head, "It's not healthy for you."

Finnick frowns between us and leans back in his own seat, pitching his feet up onto the bed and crossing them at the ankle as he settles in comfortably, "Why don't you come to Twelve, Johanna? They could use the help rebuilding."

"Could they?" She asks in feigned disbelief, "No thanks, I'm good here."

"Peeta would bake for you," He offers, giving her a suggestive look.

Johanna rolls her eyes and glares at me, "No offense, Peeta, but your loafs are more sourdough at this point. I'm better off without it."

"I've been baking cookies quite regularly, actually," I correct her.

"So Katniss just comes in and sours things up from time to time?" She asks, "Maybe we should keep her away from Twelve."

Finnick grins wide, "So you'll join us?"

Johanna looks up at the bag of morphling drip and sighs, "I guess so, why not? I can't stand being stuck in here anyways."

Returning back to Twelve is harder than it was last time though, even with Johanna tagging along. Leaving without saying a word to the press might have been the tipping point though, because they end up following me.

It only 'helps' in the sense that people also follow them, some with inspiration and respect, to help rebuild, not just to stand around in giant crowds outside my door, waiting for me to come out so they can finally try and get a few words from me.

Haymitch followed as well after a short while and moved back into his own house, but he's mostly concentrated on getting as drunk as possible, which I don't think I'll argue with anymore.

It hurts to watch him drown himself, with how much I adore and respect him after everything he's gotten me through, but I don't blame the guy.

Finnick and Annie move in as well, together, and they take up the house one over from me. Annie comes over occasionally, like she use to, to help around the house and Finnick joins the work crew on the road. More space grows each day in 12, and even though I'm forced to share my house with three others, I don't complain about the company.

Before the war, before the seventy-fifth games, I'd been here mostly alone. I could go and visit my parents, but I was still alone. So it's nice to have people coming in and out often.

* * *

><p>The front door opens and slams with Prim turning her back inside and shouting out at them, "Don't you have something better to do than harass people at their homes?"<p>

She's gotten as tired with the press as I have.

Myself, standing at the stove as usual, with my oven mitts on, turns to greet the little blond as she plants a few large cans on the counter.

Her hands are covered with thick woolen gloves, a large blue puffed fur jacket and a woolen hat as her long blond hair pillows around her large collar. Snow covers her shoulders, cheeks and nose flushed from the cold and her tiny legs poke out from the bottom of the jacket, thin and only covered in jeans, her feet encased in fluffy, furred boots.

"What's that?" I ask curiously, wiping the icing from my fingers onto my apron.

Prim smiles proudly and puts out her hands to present: "Paint."

"Paint?"

She nods enthusiastically and walks around the counter, taking a seat nearby, "You haven't done art in ages and I knew these were getting low, I thought it might cheer you up."

"Don't bother, Prim," I say, turning away from the three primary colors and carefully pulling out the tray of bread.

"Why not?" She asks, sniffing the air and grinning as she melts on the counter, spreading out her arms and hands.

I shrug, "I'm not really out of paint. I just–"

"Don't feel like painting, I know," She gets up and walks over to the still cooling cupcakes on the stove top, "You don't even do designs on these anymore. Why's that?"

"I guess I don't feel like it. They taste the same with just the icing on them, plain."

Prim bites into one of them and then devours it before saying: "You best change that attitude soon."

"Why's that?"

She gives me a knowing look, "Because my birthday's in a few days, and I expect the most perfect cake in the world from you, Peeta Mellark. Depressed or not."

"Do you?" I ask, raising a brow at the short stuff.

"I do."

"And what does Prim want as her cake?"

She shakes her head and pulls off her jacket, followed closely by her gloves and hat, "I'm not telling you. You're going to have to figure it out yourself. But it better be perfect."

"Or what?"

"Or I take away the one thing you can't live without," She says, putting her hands on her waist.

_As if that hasn't been taken already._

"What's that?"

She smiles wide and points to the stove, "Baking. I can do it. Just watch me."

I look at her in fake astonishment, "Take away my baking? How will I live if you do that?"

"Exactly," She grins triumphantly, turning to the can of blue paint and opening it up.

"What are you doing?"

"Painting," She answers as she spins around and slides four long-fingered strokes across my cheek before I can react in time to stop her.

I can't resist the widening of my eyes as she does it and I stare down at the grin spreading across her face, smug and satisfied, "Oh, you call that painting?" I ask, moving past her and grabbing the red paint, opening it and drawing three war lines from the left side of her forehead, straight down her face to her chin. She doesn't even try to stop me.

"See?" She says, staring up at me happily, "You're painting again already."

"So how old are you turning, little one?" I ask, leaning back on the counter, allowing the paint on my face to dry, "Seven right?"

"No," Prim glares, "I'm turning fourteen. And I'm not little."

I wipe my hand off on my apron and nod, "Ah, fourteen," I smile, sitting down at the counter and closing up the paints again, "Definitely not little."

She rolls her eyes, walking by me and pulling the string of the back of my apron loose so it falls open.

"Hey, short stuff," I protest, turning around and grabbing her into a headlock.

"That's not fair!" She gasps in surprise, "You didn't–"

"What?" I ask, picking her up in a fireman's lift, lugging her across the kitchen and into the livingroom, "Didn't what, little duck, didn't warn you?"

"No," She breathes out as I toss her down on the couch and flick on the tv before she can argue, "You still have your apron on."

I nod, "Indeed, I do," I take it off and toss it over her face.

"Hey!" She shouts, grabbing it and chucking it over my head.

We grow silent, watching the tv together for a while before Prim turns to me and says: "I wish they'd stop standing outside your door like buzzards. It's been like that for weeks now. You think they'd get a hint."

"Yeah, me too."

"They're still waiting for you to talk about killing Snow."

"Yup."

Prim stares at me, reaching over and flicking off the tv, "Can I ask you something?"

I look at her, raising my brows, "Yes, Prim?"

"You saw Katniss, when you were there, right?" She asks and I nod, "I talked to her. Did she... Do you know what she's like?"

"What do you mean?"

Prim bows her head, "She doesn't even know who you are."

I nod, "Yeah, I know that."

"How could she forget you twice?" Prim asks suddenly, her eyes flaring up slightly, "I tried talking to her, but Peeta... It's like she's not even in there. She barely feels like my sister anymore. She doesn't even really remember coming back after the games. She doesn't remember anything after volunteering. And I was getting to her before. She was remembering. It's like she's forgotten everything... Again. Only more this time."

"I know."

"Why though?" She puts her fingers to her lips, "How?"

"I don't know," I say as Prim moves in close and curls her legs to her chest, "I talked to her and she told me she had never spoken to me before."

Prim looks up at me and frowns more, "Ever?"

"Ever," I confirm.

"You know what she does remember from after the games though?"

"What?"

Prim gives me this look, one that tells me I'm not going to like what I hear, "She remembers Gale being whipped. She remembers that. She remembers kissing him in the woods. How could she remember that and nothing else?"

"I've noticed her acting different too," I add, finally able to speak my mind and feelings allowed to someone, "She's more innocent than the Katniss I remember, less backbone, less restraint."

Prim nods and rests her cheek on her hand, "I don't like you being like this, Peeta. I mean, I know that things didn't go well between Katniss and you, but it's not healthy for you to just sit around and feel sorry for yourself."

"Prim–"

"Don't you make excuses again," She argues back before I can say anymore, "I've seen you struggle too much with this. Let's make some muffins."

I raise my brow at the suggestion and open my eyes, "What kind?"

"Blueberry," She says, grinning, "Have you got some icing?"

* * *

><p>"Thank you, Peeta," Annie says as she sits on her couch, her hand resting on her stomach as she watches me bring down one of the large boxes from the hallway closet.<p>

"It's no problem. Any time, Mrs. Odair," I respond, throwing her a grin and setting the box in front of her, "You shouldn't strain yourself."

She nods in agreement and starts to look through the box, "I just know it has to be in here."

"What are you looking for?"

"The baby blanket, I told Finnick not to pack it away, but I'm pretty sure he did anyways," Annie pilfers impatiently through the box, dumping most of it's contents on the floor.

I try to help her but she shakes her head, "Are you sure it's in there, Annie?"

She nods and then looks up at me in surprise, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"What?" I ask in confusion, glancing down at the box, "What's wrong?" I see it though, before she can respond, the cushion of the couch wetting below her.

"My water broke," She says in surprise as I pull the box away from her, moving all the things that fell down on the floor before they can get wet.

There's a loud knock on the door as I stand back up, my hands and forearms slightly wet, "Just–One second!" I shout, turning and pulling on my shoes as Annie's hands flick around to point at things I need to grab for her, her purse and a few other things, her own shoes.

I grab the jacket and wrap it around her as I lift her up in my arms, "Stay calm, just breathe."

There's another impatient knock on the door as Annie reaches down and opens it for me before wrapping her arms back around my neck.

Prim stops at the door, her arm in the air as she moves to walk in, "Hey, Annie, I–Peeta?"

"Hey there, Prim," I say casually, walking out into the cold, brisk, dry air with the panting woman in my arms.

"What's going on?" The smaller girl asks, her hair up in a pony tail.

"My water broke," Annie finally says.

"Can you lock the door?" I ask and Prim turns back, taking the keys from me and doing as I ask without further question.

Together, the three of us make our way down into town, walking over the chilled, dark roads. The streets are clean of almost every bit of rubble finally, lights set up here and there, offering us a soft guide to move through.

A puff of cold air traces my lips as I control my breathing, holding up the shivering woman in my arms.

Prim prances around before us excitedly, checking for pot holes left unchecked and making sure that the road is clear of anything.

I should be the one ahead, honestly, animals still have a tendency to wander beyond the fence, but I really have no choice in this case, since I'm holding Annie.

"I'm glad I had you over," She says, "You'd probably be at the bakery at this time of night, instead of helping me around at home. Thank you."

"Prim would've came and got me though," I breathe out, watching the girl ahead of us as she points down at the road, "Don't you worry, Annie. I don't know what to do about Finnick though, can he get back here fast?"

Annie nods, her body shuddering, "He'll be here. Besides, there's labor too, so he has some... Some time."

"Are you alright?" I ask, glancing down at her.

"I'm fine," She says, smiling at me, "Thank you, Peeta."

"You're welcome."

Prim shouts out to us once we reach the city circle, "Do you mind if I run ahead and help mom prepare?"

"No, go ahead, Prim," I breathe, "You're better off there. I've got her. Just be careful."

She starts to walk back, "Want me to take those?"

"I've got them," I respond at once before she gets too close, "It'd be harder to give you, and it's not bothering me. I'm fine."

"Alright. Stay to the left side," She says, pointing at the road again, "It gets bad about here, alright?"

I nod, "Thanks, Prim."

We watch her run off, the back of her jacket billowing out as she blows through the street lights, faster than her sister, long sheen of bright blond hair whipping back behind her.

In the silence, I carry Annie until we reach the apothecary, it's warm windows alight from inside, the crooked, beaten gate would be more creepy or daunting to others, but it's a sort of comfort to me instead.

I walk up the front stone steps and the door opens at once, Prim welcoming us in and smiling at me.

"Set her down here," The blond says, motioning to the bed that's been laid out and taking Annie's things from my arms finally, "Mom will be right in."

"Peeta, get cleaned up in the back," Celeste orders as she walks into the room, a warm rag in her hands, "Annie will be fine with me."

"What?" I ask.

Prim points at my body and I look down.

"Oh."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give me yer points of view in a review, or just drop in to say 'good story' anything werks. ^^

~KaKaVegeGurl


	57. Chapter 13 OPTD: First Sign of Infection

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**If you STILL haven't submitted a character fer Option D, feel free to do so, YOU STILL CAN. If you want ANOTHER, that's cool too. You can also submit people from the other Districts as well.**

Don't ferget to visit the tumblr page today, I have all the info fer that in the Option A Author's note!

The NEXT update fer this fic will be on the 16th, that's next Monday. And it will consist of Chapter 14 of both A and P. Followed shortly, within the span of the next two weeks from then, by the Epilogues of B, C, and D.

B will be completely over then. COMPLETELY OVER. And C and D will be followed up after the hiatus in part 4 of my fic. If you have any questions or confusion, ask me, or reread the latest notes (Chapter 51, 52, and 53).

Don't ferget to submit requests and questions and stuff fer the interview! I'll need them soon, REALLY soon.

Thank you all fer being awesome, avid, and reviewing! May the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

_Fer anonymous reviewers...  
><em>

**Romance Reader (Chapter 53): **"Oh it's not nearly as easy as most people seem to think it is. But that's one of the reasons I keep them so separate from each other, so different. Helps to stop me from being so confused. XP It's when I get into ALL the other options that I'ma have to take a step back each time I start a chapter. XP thanks fer the scene requests, I think I've already got the bulk of them written so far. I hope you enjoy them! As fer yer idea fer a fanfic. I added some of that attempt to the interview as well. ^_~ If you have any questions fer the interview, also, feel free to submit them too!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Didn't rly have a song this time, but I did have this;

28 Days Later Soundtrack - In the House - In A Heartbeat

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13 - First Sign of Infection<strong>

* * *

><p>Kessa, the scout, runs on ahead of us as the group takes their time, carefully avoiding large pools. The forest floor is slick from sick, blood slopped in foot-sized puddles of white, wet mess and torn flesh, broken limbs of trees and roughed up dirt from where it'd collapsed a few times.<p>

Everyone keeps in close to themselves, some following others, some spreading out to check around.

Glisten chuckles finally, his gun perched on his shoulder, looking down at each sample with a broad smirk, "Where the fuck did you shoot this thing, Peeta? He's oozing everywhere."

"He shot him in the nads," Tooney says from ahead and the group bursts into laughter, "I saw it."

"I've never seen anything run away that fast with it's tail between it's legs," The girl beside me says. Charlie, small, thin and dark skinned with short black hair cut close to her scalp, "Poor thing got neutered right on the spot."

"Hey," I say, shrugging as a few of them give me looks, "He offered them up. I wasn't going to let such a good shot get away."

Ben slaps down on my shoulder, laughter shaking his shoulders as we walk on, "My, my, Peeta. If there's one thing I can say you have that that mutt doesn't, it's balls. That's for sure."

The group bursts into uncontrolled laughter again and even I can't help myself.

Kurgan, the farthest ahead stops chuckling at once and turns back to us with wide eyes, "Hey, boss, you might..." He lets out a breath as his smile finally evaporates, "You might want to see this."

Ben stops laughing as well and moves forward, weaving through the group.

I can just barely see what he's talking about from here. The trees becoming thick with a new substance, pouring down from their leafs in long yellow webs.

"Spiders?" Magenta breathes nervously from behind me. She's a large woman with thick muscles, so the fear of spiders surprises me, but Ben shakes his head.

"No, not spiders."

Kurgan looks back and breathes out his response: "It's their home. And not just any home, but... A... Hatchery."

"A what?" Glisten hisses, his eyes going wide.

Kurgan points out and we all move closer to see what he's motioning to.

Nestled between a group of trees is a large graveyard of eggs, broken through and exited. _Babies. Baby dinosaurs._

Kessa comes running up to join us finally, some of the odd web stuff on the side of his armor as he reports: "The monster is up ahead just a bit. I don't know, but I think it's dead. It's not alone though... There are more than one."

"More?" Ben asks, his eyebrows going up, "More than one? How **many **more?"

"Many, many more," Kessa pants, "Babies, lots of babies. Fourteen of them. And... There's the mother as well."

Ben nods slowly, "How big are the babies?"

"About the size of a small elephant."

Kurgan curses as the group begins to slowly hide themselves amongst the trees.

"And the mother?" Ben asks at last.

Kessa shakes his head, "We had a bad time fighting the father. But she's like... She's huge. She's almost two times his size."

"Two..." Ben goes silent and looks at me, "Is... Is she... Mobile?"

"I don't know, she was on her side," The scout says, looking around the group, "You can see the male's claws from here, he's bleeding out. But I don't know if we can handle taking out fourteen of those babies. There's only ten of us."

Ben looks at Kurgan, "We all aim for the nads on three?"

Kurgan smirks and puts his hand on Kessa's shoulder, "Seeing as I'm tactics, take me ahead and I'll see what I can think up."

The two of them leave together and Tooney looks back at me, "Small elephants?"

Steady frowns and moves away from a large pool of blood near his feet, "I've always wanted to fight a small elephant."

"Fourteen of them?" Charlie asks, "I'm fine with letting you all do the work. I can just watch."

Ben looks over at me and frowns, "How do you feel?"

"Fine," I let out a held breath and sit back against the tree behind me, "Why?"

"Well," He shrugs, "You're about three hours into being infected. It took that boy less than fifteen minutes to die, right?"

"Right," I confirm, my stomach twisting, heart sobbing at it's wounds.

Ben nods and touches my forehead, "It took our first nurse about an hour before she started having nosebleeds."

"No nosebleeds here," I reassure him, "Anything else?"

Glisten speaks over Ben's shoulder: "I know that most of them start having hot flashes or something, some time during–"

"Do you even know you have it?" Brenda asks, a girl with shoulder-length brown hair, "He just spit up on you, right? I mean, you could not even have it."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," I say, trying to keep the hope from rising.

Ben nods, "It took most of the men about... Four days, before nosebleeds? And most of them were much older than you, Peeta. You might not show anything for weeks."

Kurgan and Kessa finally arrive back, both with grave expressions on their faces.

"What did you see?" Steady asks nervously.

"Well," Kurgan starts, softly, "The little elephants are eating their father. And the mother seems to be getting restless. She doesn't look up to travel, and I think she's worried that the... Elephants might have to go hunting for food on their own."

"What do they eat?"

Kurgan glares at Brenda, "I'm guessing... Fresh, warm meat. You offering?"

She rolls her eyes and looks away, "Sure, I'm always offering."

The group laughs lightly and Kurgan motions to me, "The mother might not be much of a challenge. The babies though have enough energy to make up for it. Glisten and Charlie, I want you both to be back up, behind a couple of trees, out of range. Alright?"

The two of them nod, pulling up their guns.

"Ben," The owner nods and Kurgan smiles, "You can handle them close up, right? Magenta, and Steady, you too?"

Ben hands his gun over to Glisten and the other two give theirs to Charlie.

"Brenda, scale a tree," He smiles as she confirms, "You're our sharpest shooter, so aim wisely. Peeta, Tooney, Kessa and I are the best short-range shooters, so we'll station ourselves at the entrance of the hatchery. Alright?"

The group all nod in agreement and Kurgan raises his hand to say one more thing.

"We only have three people in there. Magenta, Ben, and Steady, so... Watch them. They'll make sure nothing gets to us. But it's our job to pay the same respect."

Brenda is the first to move, running up to a nearby tree and quickly climbing it.

The rest of us move together, Glisten and Charlie breaking off to hide behind their respective trees.

Ben pulls out his side knife and turns back to me, "How... Fast are these guys?"

"The male, the father, he was pretty quick," I respond, staring at him nervously, "Watch their tails too. And their feet most of all, those are the worst."

"Sharp claws?"

I nod, "Would go right through your armor without missing a beat."

Ben raises his brows and smiles, he moves to Glisten and begins taking off his jacket.

"What are you doing?" I ask as he removes everything until he's down to his muscle shirt, his pants, and his boots.

"I'll be better off without it, I think."

"Fuck that," Magenta says, zipping up her jacket.

Steady doesn't bother doing either, instead he rolls up his sleeves just a bit and cracks his knuckles, his short blond hair slick with sweat already.

"In position, four group," Kurgan orders, looking at me.

I pull the gun from my shoulder as Tooney and Kessa join us.

In the hatchery area, the fourteen baby elephants play peacefully amongst themselves, all of them with already lethally sharp claws. I can't help being afraid for the three-man group. Having to be that close up.

I've never seen Ben fight before, but I can see the scars deep over his muscles from here as he flexes and stretches, getting ready. He's clearly been through some nasty things, the one by his temple not withstanding.

Kurgan motions to the group and we all take aim.

Together, the seven of us position the baby muttations to the left in our direct lines of vision and fire simultaneously.

Sharpshooter, Brenda, her's is obvious because it's dead center in the child's forehead, and the small elephant does nothing short of collapsing... And not getting up again, not even stirring.

_One down, thirteen to go._

My own pierces the exact spot I wish it hadn't went because the little raptor jerked it's body at the last moment and the bullet whizzes right past, hitting it's brother to the right in the shoulder.

Ben rushes forward at once as the closest one comes in.

I reload my weapon, honestly wanting to watch him take on the small elephant, but more dedicated to taking them out before anything can get nasty.

Ben's fast, dodging the tail of the muttation and sliding his knife up it's spine as he moves carefully around behind it.

Magenta runs in next, slamming one of the elephants that was clearing towards Kurgan. It wails painfully as she takes up it's open jaw and forces the upper and lower to part ways with a painful ripping squelch.

_Two._

Tooney, to my left, aims slowly and patiently at each of the raptor's arms and legs, nicking them enough to cause problems.

I take aim again as Brenda clears her personal second across the field of my vision. The struggle is hard to aim correctly at as Ben slams the foot of his boot into the raptor's mouth snapping at him, so just before it goes down, I pull the trigger and the bullet soars through it's under jaw.

_Four down. We're evenly matched now._

Ben looks back and smirks at me in surprise, "Very nice shot."

"Thanks," I say as the raptor thrashes painfully behind him, blood spurting up from it's mouth.

Kurgan, standing firm at my side, nails the raptor wrestling with Steady and reloads at once, "The mother is... Is moving!"

Ben stops a raptor charging at me by slamming headlong into it, knocking the muttation off it's side.

I aim again, but am struck at once, dizzy, and have to stop myself from collapsing.

"Shit!" Kurgan curses, backing up a foot as he shoots one coming in at him. It's close, but it's immediately pinged by Brenda. Kurgan manages to dodge him easily as it plants itself into the ground behind us.

_Five, _I hold myself up, blinking to try and see clearly again.

"Peeta, shoot that mother!" Kurgan orders at once.

"You can't get her in the nads though!" Glisten shouts from behind his tree, shooting down the raptor that Steady's been holding back.

I start to aim my gun upwards, arms shaking, but freeze as three raptors clamber on top of Ben, on top of the one he's still busy taking down.

"Ben!" I shout, but stop in astonishment as the closest muttation stills and the big man rolls out from under them, sliding through the dirt on one knee.

"I'm fine, get the mother," He says, panting heavily, his back to me. "Times like this, I wish I had my sword."

"Times like this?" Kurgan asks, "You've had times like this before?"

I let loose a string of incendiary bullets over the large mother's chest.

"You and your sword," Steady shouts as he grabs up one of the raptors and slams his dagger into it's forehead.

Ben chuckles and picks back up his dagger, flipping it in his palm, "Yeah, yeah," He breathes out, exhausted, "Me and my sword. This would've been the best time to try it out. Go figure, right?"

I pull my eyes from the struggle and aim up at the mother again, as her large, swollen body rises up and she roars down at us angrily, us ants amongst the grass..._ I mean trees_.

"Can we even kill this thing?" Charlie asks unsurely as Ben clears through two more raptors on his own.

The large man turns just enough that I see a flicker of red on the front of his gray shirt. His arms are slick with sweat, body heaving as he pants and positions for the next mutt.

Steady laughs and says: "I think Ben's got it covered."

"Like hell I do," The tan man pants, taking a step back to my side and wiping his brow, "The babies, you think they're venomous?"

Kurgan raises a brow from his perch as he takes down one of the last five babies, "Yeah, most-likely, why?"

Ben turns so that we can see his front finally and I freeze in shock. His stomach is cut open, just under his belly button, nearly across the waist from right to left, as though someone took a meat hook and tried to yank his guts out.

Tooney stills for a moment, Charlie as well before they turn back to keep their attention on the babies still fighting Magenta and Steady.

"Ben!" Kurgan shouts, dropping his gun and running to him.

"No, no," The other man says, raising a bloodied hand as he holds his stomach painfully, "You know how this works, Kurgan, don't put yourself in danger. It's already got me and Peeta. Please, Kurgan, don't."

The other man makes a wounded sound, backing up and staring at him, "But–"

"Clear!" Brenda shouts as she takes out the last baby elephant and joins us on the ground again.

"Only now..." Steady says, backing up and we all stare at the mother as she glares down on us, teeth bared and tail whipping about behind her.

"Incendiary ammo," I breathe to everyone, "The male had thick hide, so she will as well. It was the most effective. And aim for sensitive spots. Neck, stomach–"

"Nads?" Charlie asks.

Across her stomach I can see the little holes from my bullets, little leaks of blood, but barely mosquito bites to her.

The mother moves slowly as everyone begins reloading their guns, Glisten and Charlie joining us as well, handing the other group members theirs back.

Ben takes his gun up, wincing in pain as he steps out closest to her.

"Ben," I say, joining him, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Never better," He breathes, "One more scar for the book, right? It's only skin, Peeta. It'll heal. Don't worry about me. I've had worse."

I nod in agreement and he smiles.

"You've got plenty of your own though, I've seen."

"I got my guts shot once too," I say, smiling back, "You're not alone."

Ben laughs weakly, "Good man. We just got this big woman and then we can go home, I think."

The group aim their guns together and shoot as one, the incendiary ammo tearing through her, leaving burnt holes in their wake.

Roaring though, her long tail swipes down at the group, quicker than possibly expected.

We part like a crowd, throwing ourselves out to the side to dodge her and, even though he's wounded, Ben's back up on his feet first and already aiming his gun again before I've found my own rifle.

Kurgan shouts from the other side of her tail, "Everyone good?"

The group all roar together and I take up aim once more, struggling to fight back another dizzy spell.

"Yeah," He says weakly, "I think that's everyone."

Her tail pulls back and swipes down again towards Ben and I this time. I shake my head, trying to move, but I can barely turn to the side without feeling like I'm gonna vomit.

I feel Ben's arms grabbing me and yanking me just out of her reach, the tail landing inches from my boots.

"Come on now, Peeta," He breathes painfully, "I'm losing guts, and you can't move?"

I turn to him and shake my head, "I don't know. I keep getting dizzy."

He nods, understanding, and helps me up, giving me my gun and assisting me in pointing it at the large muttation again.

It's Brenda's bullet, of course, that takes out the mother raptor, for the most part at least. Lodging itself with it's brother, deep into her brain. But both sets of Ben's, my own, and Kurgan's bullets are the ones that make their way through her stomach.

She collapses in a large heap, shaking the ground in her fall, body twitching and blood filtering through the cracked eggs, the grass and trees.

"Do onto others," Ben breathes, walking forward, "As their children do to you."

Kurgan laughs and slaps him on the back, the two of them slowly taking seat by her tail and dropping their guns.

Ben lifts his shirt, allowing Kurgan to take a look at the wound.

"So, do we collect her blood, their blood, bones, or what?" Charlie asks, dropping her gun and staring around at all of the smaller bodies.

The bags that the group brought along in their side packs are carried forward and we fill them as much as possible. Collecting samples of everything we can, blood, flesh, **and **bone, to bring back to Adler for testing.

Ben walks along slowly and stiffly beside me, shoulders straight and stomach patched up for the trip back, "You've fought... Muttations before?"

"Yeah," I confirm.

"Are they all...?"

"Nothing alike," I say before he can finish the question, "Nothing at all alike."

Kurgan raises a brow at me, "What other kinds are there?"

"Wasps, large ones that, when they sting you, you see things," I list off, "Those are Tracker Jackers. Then there's the Jabberjays, that can imitate any sound you hear."

"Jacker," Ben says, thinking out loud, "Jacking up your mind? Jabber, talking. So what's this one called?"

"I don't know," I shrug and the group all give me a similar, collective look.

"You don't know them all?" Charlie asks unsurely.

"No, of course not. The Capitol makes tons of them, they don't show us anything, let alone **everything**."

Kurgan nods and rolls his shoulders, "So what do we call it?"

"A pain in the ass?" Brenda guesses.

"It was poisonous," Magenta speaks aloud, "Fast–"

"Velociraptor," I say, listing off the things with her and the group looks at me again.

Charlie smiles, "Velociraptor, I like that. Velocity..."

Steady speaks over her though, laughing and asking: "What kind of a name is that? It doesn't fit with the rest of them at all."

"No, Velociraptor," I repeat, staring at him as my eyes widen, "That's a dinosaur."

Ben nods slowly, his forefinger below his lips, "Ah... What's a dinosaur?"

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	58. Option B: Epilogue

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option B<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Alright, so a slight change in plans. That happens with me all the time tho.

A and P 14 will go up AFTER the B, C, and D epilogues.

Today I'm posting up B, and B only. Tomorrow we're heading out to Gander, which is a DAY trip, more or less. So C will come out Wednesday... Yup.

And I need to stop writing OS before I get started on chapters of this, LOL.

This chapter is ALMOST the size of an OS chapter.

It's about 6 pages off.

HOWEVER, I'm proud to announce to you guys that this is the single LONGEST chapter I've EVER written of a fanfic.

Eight pages... When I average 5-6. The entire thing including AN and lyrics is like 10 friggin pages. O.o

**Since this is the end of B, and it really is the end, feel free to submit ANY questions and requests concerning it, fer the interview, or anything further. You can submit 'short' requests or anything you want. Feel free, the floor is open.**

As heart-breaking as this epilogue is, I hope it closes everything up well.

B Peeta was kinda the most adored Peeta in all of the options. I love him, and he's been such an awesome Peeta to write fer.

Hopefully this has done him justice.

Thank you all fer being awesome and constant, I hope you enjoy! May the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

There's no one in town I know,

You gave us some place to go.

I never said thank you for that.

I thought I might get one more chance.

What would you think of me now,

So lucky, so strong, so proud?

I never said thank you for that,

Now I'll never have a chance.

May angels lead you in.

Hear you me my friends.

On sleepless roads, the sleepless go.

May angels lead you in.

And if you were with me tonight,

I'd sing to you just one more time.

A song for a heart so big,

God wouldn't let it live.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

* * *

><p><em>This bullet wound can probably paralyze me, might, most likely<em>. The realization of that is more terrifying than being blown up and losing both of my arms.

I might actually be paralyzed for the rest of my life.

Katniss sobs violently and I look at her, watch as she leans down to kiss me, cradles my head in her hands._ It's my head. I'm sure that it's me, but it's also not me anymore. _I'm staring down at her now, instead of up.

_That boy, that poor broken boy in her arms doesn't even look like me now. _His hair wet from the snow and matted to his face, short, blond, and curled. The skin scarred from explosions and war. _He doesn't look like me at all anymore._

I lift my hands to look at the clean pink flesh, unmarred and unscathed; untouched by fire or bombs. Full, solid hands that match the rest of my body. I can even **feel **my left leg, for the first time in a long time.

_I may be whole again, I may have my arms and my legs, but I'm also dead._

Carefully, nervously, I look up and down the cobbled streets. Their soft colors of pink and orange having streams of melting snow sloshed like spikes of clouds over their face, the Capitol innocence covered by wet, white depression. The flecks fall down around me, light air blowing them around like little pieces of torn paper.

It's snowing all around me, but I'm not cold at all anymore.

I look up to the buildings along our sides, a pastry shop with fresh baked goods on display, but it's closed, a furred jacket store with it's windows darkened, shapes of human bodies standing at it's forefront wearing their offerings, showing them off to the emptiness. There are also a few regular homes near the end of my vision, their cheerful picket fences painted soft cream colors of blues, pinks and purples. And the rest of the buildings are different food restaurants and fashion stores, sitting vacant and dreary along the way.

Honestly, I thought it'd be different than this, _dying_. I thought it'd be dark and confusing like it was before.

But I guess I hadn't actually died then. My mind was able to supply something to take up that empty space, a dream based on things before._ Instead of this._

Instead of finding myself here, staring down at the scene of my death, stilled for me to ponder over for eternity, watching Katniss clutch onto my lifeless body, trying to be strong, watching Prim sob her little heart out.

_How can I die?_

_How can I have even gotten shot, technically? I mean, I had armor on._

I pull off the torn vest of armor on my chest and examine it for once, finally. It's heavy, sturdy, durable armor that was made by the people of District 13. And I look over it's thickness, run my fingers across the bottom as I contemplate it.

I press the pieces of the back together from how Finnick had torn it open to get to me. And I match it with my back to find where the bullet would've entered, passing straight through one of the spots that the muttations below had clawed out.

_If that one hadn't gotten it's claws on me, I would still be alive._

This is armor that should've stopped that bullet. And it would've done it's job, had the gun been aimed one inch higher than it was.

_One inch higher and I would've lived._

I run my fingers over the tear, feel the torn bits of armor.

_This isn't right. No, __**no!**_

_This can't happen._

_It isn't fair._

I throw down the armor, my body shaking angrily as I stare at the deep pool of blood under my boots, as my hands grab at my hair and I shut my eyes tight. I walk through the thick, drying syrup of blood, grabbing up my pale, empty corpse and I throw him back over onto his stomach.

_You can't die, you stupid idiot._

_You can't just leave Katniss behind to fend for herself._

_**You can't.**_

I start grabbing up the blood, trying to shove it back in the wound, but as I try to press it in, more spills out, coating my hands and wrists.

_How can you die? You've been through worse. This is just a fucking bullet. It's nothing compared to what's come before._

_You've lost both of your arms __**and **__your leg._

_How can a bullet–How can a bullet kill me?_

He's still beneath me, not even trying to fight back as I wipe my cheek, a thick glob of blood smearing across it.

Suddenly, I'm standing back again, staring down at Katniss crying over _his empty body, closing his eyes for me._

"Your eyes."

_That's right. My eyes._

_And that stupid idiot still managed to die._

I kick out at him, boot striking his chin and tossing his lifeless body over. I kick him again and again, until I'm breathless, still furious.

"Why would you hurt yourself?"

_Because I'm dead. What else is there to do?_

I turn and look at the woman beside me. _Portia_. Her hands clasped tightly in front of her, in the outfit I last remember seeing her in when I was in the Capitol, her eyes are glassed over and sad as she stares down at my lifeless body.

I can't help feeling embarrassed for him and I try to hide the vulnerable corpse from her prying eyes, moving into her line of view so that she can't look at him anymore, "Don't, Portia. Please don't–"

"Don't what?"

"Don't look at me when..." I stop, glancing back at his empty, useless frame, "Don't look at me when I'm like this. Please."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," She says, smiling at me, "We all die sooner or later, Peeta. At least you died doing what you could. Isn't it worth it then, to die for them? While saving the ones that you love?"

I turn to look away from me.

"You saved their lives."

"Of course I did," I agree, dropping my bloodied hands, "I mean, there was no way I was going to get out of it alive, was there? After everything I've lost by now. I had to die."

_You can't always cheat death, no matter who you are. It doesn't always matter if it's fair, either._

Portia nods and takes a seat in the snow beside Katniss.

"What happens now?" I ask unsurely, looking around the empty street.

She shrugs, "Most people just pass on after they realize they've died, and that puts their bodies at rest. Some choose to move on to the next life. It's up to you, really, what you want to do ."

"Next life?"

Portia's eyes stare into mine before she smiles sadly, "Leave behind Peeta Mellark and become someone new. Move on from him. Forget him. Forget his life."

_Leave Peeta? Leave myself?_

_How could I ever do that? How could that be a choice at all? How can you possibly leave your self behind?_

_I'm not ready to leave him._

"Of course you're not," She agrees, "Not many people who can get up from their own body that fast are really ready to part ways. You're still you."

_That's right._

"There is," Portia stands up and looks around, "There are a few other choices for you."

_Other choices?_

"People that are self-sacrificing, like you have been, Peeta, **always **have more options than others."

"Like what, Portia?" I ask, my voice cracking as I feel my eyes start to water.

"You're sure you don't want to move on?"

I can't help getting angry at the question, "Move on from _what_? Move on from my life?" I shout, pointing down at my body, "Of course I don't want to move on. What's my **other **options, Portia? _Please_."

"You can follow her," The older woman suggests, "You could browse. You could start over. You could stay here. Or you could relive this."

_What does browse mean?_

"Live in your memories, view them over and over. Some have done that before."

"And starting over would entail what?"

Portia puts her hand to her mouth and speaks softly, "Start over, from the beginning. You won't remember this, but you can relive your entire life again. Nothing will change though, you'll still die here."

_I don't want to do that._

"What happens to her now, to Katniss? What happens now that I'm dead?"

Portia looks at the scene and shrugs, "Originally, she would've taken out Coin at the moment she was suppose to kill President Snow, and you would've stopped her from eating her Nightlock berry. But since you won't be alive, she's going to be comatose and unable to do anything like that."

"Comatose?" I feel my chest sink, "Forever?"

"No," She smiles, "Katniss has Prim there for her for now. And a child is growing inside of her, that will give her life purpose once again. **Your **child."

I nod, "She'll be happy?"

"As happy as you can expect, Peeta," Portia comforts, "She will be fine."

"Can I change my choice, if it's something like looking over memories? Could I come back here and decide to relive life?"

She nods.

"What did my child do?" I ask and she looks confused, but only for a moment.

"Your son?" My heart skips a beat, but I nod, "Why do you want to know?" She blinks her eyes quickly.

_He's my son. I __**need **__a reason?_

"Who chooses for him?"

"He does, of course," Portia says, "What do most babies do, Peeta?"

I shake my head, shrug my shoulders, "I don't know. How would I know that?"

"The only thing they've ever known is their parents voices. That's all they're comfortable with."

"So they stay back, they relive."

Portia nods, closing her eyes and turning her head away from me, "All he ever does is listen to Katniss and your's voices."

I blink, feeling my chest tighten in pain and I pull my boots up from the blood below, "I don't want to die, Portia. I don't want to leave Peeta behind. He... He's all I've ever known. And he–I've already been through so much. How could I possibly ever be at rest without living as Peeta Mellark?"

"There is no Peeta Mellark to live through now. He died **here**," Portia answers back, lowering her head, "He died today."

_I lost my arms._

_I lost my child._

"Do you really want to take my life away from me?"

_How is that fair?_

"Life isn't fair," Portia comments softly, watching the torment that must be on my face.

"What decides all of this?" I ask suddenly, unable to stop myself, "What took my arms and my leg from me? What **killed **my child? What put me in the games? What kind of sick humor does life have, to do all of this? Like it's just some sick game."

Portia keeps her eyes from me, "An explosion took your arms and your child. Blood loss took your leg. Horrible people of the Capitol, Snow, put you in the games. Don't blame _life _for your misfortunes, Peeta."

"Don't blame life?" I shout suddenly, rushing to her and grabbing her arms, "It did this to me, who else is there to blame for this?"

She closes her eyes, "You're an amazing person, Peeta. If life loves anyone, it's you."

"Yeah?" I ask, glaring into her face, "Well I'd say it owes me, then. Wouldn't you?"

Portia shakes her head.

"If life can give me anything, then I want what it took from me."

"It doesn't work like that–"

"Like hell it does!" I shout and the sky above crackles and thunders angrily, "I want my life back. I want my child. I want my arms, I want my leg. If life can't give me that, then I don't want anything from it. How could I possibly matter if it won't give me what I want?"

She shoves me away and I stumble back, barely catching myself.

"You're a good person, Peeta," Portia says as we watch them take my body away, "If anyone was ever created in this world that was good and true, and honest, it was you."

I duck my head away, sitting down in the pool of blood where I'd died as the rain begins to pour down around me.

"If life tried to be fair to everyone, too many people would be alive today. Too many people would be perfect."

_I never asked to be perfect._

_I just want my life to be my own._

"Without your suffering, without seeing your struggle, mankind will continue to be wounded and bitter. Why can't you just make a normal choice, like the rest of them? Why can't you just move on?"

_Because it's not fair._

_How can I have gone through all of that, only to die now? What purpose did it serve?_

"You were simply made to keep Katniss alive, sane, to save her sister. That's all that matters. I can't give you back these things that you want, Peeta. That's not how this works."

_Then I don't __**want **__anything._

"You'll just lie there in misery? You'll keep demanding justice? Isn't that selfish? You weren't made to be selfish, Peeta."

I haven't even realized that the voice isn't Portia's anymore. It isn't one voice at all, but varying, changing voices each time now. _Who I'm talking to, who I've been talking to, isn't my stylist._

_I just want to be alive again._

_Can I re-watch it? Please. I want to see it._

"Katniss! Duck!" Finnick shouts, startling me and I turn as the world around me changes, the rain going away, replaced with snow again.

I see myself, void of the scarf and hat, moving Katniss and Prim to protect them as the Peacekeeper pulls his trigger.

My body arches painfully, my lower back begins pouring blood at once as I collapse in Katniss's arms before falling into the snow.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts, her voice stabbing my ears as she tries to hold me up.

I watch her look around as Finnick takes out the guard.

He arrives at my side, turning me over and pulling off the jacket, tearing open the vest to get at the wound.

The blood on my back spews out from the bullet hole, almost pitch black as it leaks from my sides, down into the snow before it turns red.

"Stop, stop, please," I say out loud, covering my eyes as the tears fill them and I stumble away from the act, collapsing against a building before sinking to the ground as my body shakes. I don't even bother to stop myself as I pull my knees to my chest.

"It's too late."

"He's not making it."

"There's too much blood, Katniss. Even if he did, he'd be paralyzed."

"Peeta?"

"Peeta!"

"We have a man down here, we need immediate assistance."

"Don't bother. He's gone."

_I'm gone._

* * *

><p>"Peeta," the shrill, nearly violent yell is from just outside my bedroom door. She doesn't have to yell that loud. "Get up, or you'll be late!"<p>

I'm up already, as usual, drawing silently at my small desk in the corner of the room. But I get up as she says, and I'm pulling on my jean shorts, I'm grabbing up my backpack, and I'm out the door with a piece of toast in my mouth as the slender girl walks by.

"Hey, sorry," I back up onto the store's welcome mat, "Oh." I stop, it's Katniss Everdeen. And I almost plowed right into her.

My face flushes over, but she's gone already around the corner, not even bothering to look back, probably not even noticing me. _Katniss Everdeen_. And I'm out of it from there. The walk to school is slow, and I think of only her.

_One day_, I tell myself, _one day I'll have the strength to tell her how I feel_.

* * *

><p>"I'm pregnant!" She shouts, her eyes filling with tears as we stare at each other, "I feel different, Peeta. I can <em>feel <em>it. And I'm scared."

I stand up, the device clutched in my hands, "How... exactly do you feel?"

Her hands meet at her stomach, one above the other so that they cover most of the surface of her belly, they smooth over it as though they're checking for change, even though there's no sign of child, no little bump. It's probably still so small now that it would go unnoticed completely, but she knows it's there. And the gesture that she makes shows me that.

"Him," she says, tears spilling down her cheeks, "Or her, I can feel them. And I don't... I don't want to lose it. Already, I don't want to lose this child."

I nod in agreement, understanding as she reaches out to take my hands in hers, "I can't explain it, but I already know that I want it. I don't regret it. But we're about to go back in the arena, and... I'm scared."

She touches the device, "It would be bad enough if we weren't going in there. But, Peeta, I can't lose you. If I lived and you didn't–"

She starts to cry again and I take her up in my arms, "To raise this baby alone," she buries her face in my chest and I kiss her head, lips brushing through her soft hair.

* * *

><p>"You should've already seen this coming, Peeta," Katniss says, her body coming out of the shadows at last, "You should have known that there was no way we could ever be happy. You were you. And I was me. What good is a girl from the Seam?"<p>

I shake my head against her and back away, "What are you saying?"

"We could never be happy together, Peeta." She says these words but I can't help feeling that there's something missing from it.

I look at her, see the unnatural way she's staring at me, and the fear begins to ebb, "Oh Snow," I manage to fit between my tightly closed lips and she tilts her head, "You're an idiot if you think you can confuse me."

Katniss, the fake one in front of me, frowns, "Why aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Because you're pregnant with my child," I argue back, "You can do many things. But you can't fool me. I'm going to be a father, I'm a husband already. And you can't take that away."

* * *

><p><em>How does that end with <em>_**me **__dying?_

_How?_

_You can't tell me that this is how it ends._

I look around the empty road for Portia, but she isn't there. And I'm unable to think of anything else to do. _If I can't live, then there's only one thing left._

The silence fills me in and I whisper to the sky.

"Portia?"

She appears suddenly, walking from between two of the buildings and looking patiently at me, "Yes, Peeta? Have you made up your mind?"

I nod and she smiles.

"What's your choice?"

"If I stay here," I start, swallowing nervously, "Can I have him?"

Her eyes water and she blinks, "Him?" She asks, even though I know that she's aware of what I'm asking.

"Can I have my son? If he's somewhere here, looking at the memories of our voices," I manage, heart speeding up, "Can I be with him? Can I have him?"

She bows her head in confirmation and the area around us begins to change.

Darkness takes over for a moment, the cobbled streets are replaced with soft carpeted floors underneath my feet, which become bare at once. The vacated stores are replaced by the firm white walls of a warm, glowing bedroom.

Even my clothes have become something more akin to what I'd wear in the comfort of my own home.

The entire room is outlined with a gentle, warm darkness that can only be found within the eve of a day, lights dimmed for ease of the eyes to convey a sense of safety within the area.

I look past my familiar bed, in the home of the Victor's Village, to the crib sitting still by it's side, and I begin to step towards it.

"If you stay here," Portia says and I look at her, "You can't change your mind, Peeta. You'll be here with him forever."

"I'm his father," I respond and she nods without another word before she leaves the room completely, shutting the door behind her.

I walk over to the crib at last and stare down at the quietly sleeping baby laying there with it's hands up by it's face. He looks nearly three months old, nestled in the warmth of his blankets, head supported on both sides.

_He's beautiful._

Soft tufts of dark brown hair like his mother, but curled like mine. Skin as pale as Katniss's, but flushed pink on the cheeks, like me.

I stare down at him, noting Katniss's nose, my lips, my ears and Katniss's forehead. He's very clearly ours. A perfect mix of our best features. And I've never seen something so beautiful in my entire life. Never lived, until seeing him. My heart clenches as he sleeps, as his little fingers curl suddenly.

He opens his eyes at once and stares up at me with large, clear, heart-startlingly blue orbs trained knowingly and I see my reflection looking back in them, shocked, with warmth offered to him. My eye color, but Katniss's eye shape.

And then he smiles, mouth opening in a gentle giggle that graces the silence with it's presence.

I smile back, unable to help it, reaching down to touch him and his little fingers catch the tips of mine in their grasp.

He giggles louder, legs and body moving as he keeps his eyes on mine.

I take him up from the crib carefully in my large palms, folding him flush against my chest, most of his lower body fitting in my right hand alone. His fists clamp tightly onto my shirt as he hugs close to me, cheek ruffling my shirt as he laughs happily.

"Hey there, Noam," I say and he stops, stilling in shock and staring up at me, eyes widening in surprise at the sound of my voice, "I love you."

He blinks, huge, wide eyes so very much like his mother's, and I lean down to him, pressing my lips to his head, to his little fingers, his chubby arms and legs and then pulling them up to kiss his tiny, baby-soft feet.

Each time I kiss him, a perfectly joyful little giggle emits from the small child, until he's a fit of them when I pull back to touch his warm cheeks, flushed from happiness.

"I love you more than anything in the world, Noam," I say again, stopping the giggles once more.

He stares at me in adoration and shock, ear pressed to my chest, mouth open in a smile, and I carry him carefully over to the bed, sitting down on it and rocking him back and forth in my arms.

My left hand rests at home on his little stomach as I begin to sing softly to him throughout the quietness of the room.

_Airplanes that fly,_

_Ships that set sail,_

_Can't see as good as I._

_As pink as I am,_

_As loud as I am,_

_As walking, dancing, singing as I am._

_As seeing as I am,_

_I'm not as good as I am._

_My strength will never be strong enough,_

_My notes will never be high enough,_

_I can walk a mile, but not for long,_

_I can slow dance and belt out every song,_

_But there's something lacking there._

_I can see you, but not your heart,_

_I am good, but I'm not as smart._

_I'm as good as you._

_I'm as best as you._

_Not the best, not better, but try._

_You're not as good as me._

_And neither am I._

I position myself in the center of our bed, the warm blue comforter surrounding us as I hold the sleeping baby, resting in my arms as if he were perfectly designed for them, running my fingers through the gentle curls of his beautiful brown hair, listening to his soft breathing before I allow sleep to wrap me in it's embrace as well.

I hold Noam close, the anchor of my world, keeping me calm despite the death and tragedy.

It's a painful thing to accept. But I'll take the comfort in knowing that I am here with our son, taking care of his death as well. And Katniss is there for our other child, as beautiful and as perfect as this one, I'm sure.

I won't know him or her. But I know this little guy, and I'm glad that he's not alone anymore.

As he lays asleep with me, safe and warm in my arms, forever.

_I've done the right thing._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Pretty much sobbed writing this the second Peeta mentioned having his son again and staying there with him, all the way until the end.

This epilogue seriously broke my heart, in a sad, sweet way tho.

Peeta and his baby, there in his house... Ferever. Omg, Ima go bawl some more.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	59. Option C: Epilogue

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option C<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**WARNING!**

Now, if you didn't see that, yer blind.

If you don't read further, yer just stupid...

Alright.

This is the warning:

If you do not like the Peeta x Prim idea... Peerim? O.o Preeta? Iuno, but DON'T read further.

Because it starts **here**.

Peeta and Prim will be the LINEAR progression of Option C. HOWEVER, I will be releasing a special Option C2 fer readers that... Disagreed with this progression.

C2 will kind of be a part of the fourth book, but it will be separate. It'll be it's own fic on .

It will come out around the same time as C and D book 4, and I will be linking it back here fer everyone to find. But if you've gotten this far and you haven't followed ME yet... What is wrong with you? XP

So, if you don't want to read Preeta, don't read further.

As fer the readers that DO want to read Preeta, I have a warning fer you as well.

Something might happen in this chapter that some of you might feel a bit squeamish about, HOWEVER, I assure you that it is PLATONIC atm. But in the Preeta end, it will have benefitted from this chapter, MUCH.

Prim is NOT going to stay this young, you'll all know that from the first chapter of the next installment. I don't want this relationship to be creepy. Okay?

So please, bare with me.

Since this is the epilogue of Option C, feel free to write in ANY questions or requests fer the interview I've mentioned so many times before. Please feel free to ask anything of me.

Done now, continue on and enjoy! May the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine.

I keep my eyes wide open all the time.

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds.

Because you're mine, I walk the line.

I find it very, very easy to be true.

I find myself alone when each day is through.

Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you.

Because you're mine, I walk the line.

As sure as night is dark and day is light,

I keep you on my mind both day and night.

And happiness I've known proves that it's right.

Because you're mine, I walk the line.

You've got a way to keep me on your side.

You give me cause for love that I can't hide.

For you, I know I'd even try to turn the tide.

Because you're mine, I walk the line.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

* * *

><p>Annie moves to grab the burbling baby in my arms but Finnick holds her back from doing it a second time.<p>

"Come on," He says, clutching their packs tightly with his free hand as he struggles to keep her by the door, instead of moving back into the house, "Peeta's got it covered."

"But–"

"Come on, Annie," Finnick repeats, giving me an apologetic glance, "We're gonna be late if we don't get moving soon."

I nod, taking little Aiden's hand in mine and waving it in a goodbye motion to his mother and father, "He's fine, Annie. He's safe with me, aren't you kiddo?"

Annie nods finally and takes a few steps back, a tear rolling down her cheek, "A-alright."

Aiden pulls his hand away from mine, eyebrows furrowed, and he grabs at my bottom lip, stretching it out and then giggling wildly when I make a face, crossing my eyes and sticking my tongue out to get at his little fingers.

"Oh, hey there Finnick," Prim says in surprise as she walks in through the door.

"Miss Rose," Finnick welcomes her, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek, "How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine. Hey, Peeta."

I look past the drooling child and smile the best I can at Prim as Aiden clamps my mouth shut, "Mmmay, Rrim."

She smiles wide as Finnick and Annie finally leave, walking up to the counter and setting down a box of prepared bread dough, "What's with Annie, she was crying?"

"Oh, she just can't stand a day away from this horrible monster," I explain, lifting Aiden by his stomach and blowing a raspberry on his chubby little neck. He giggles again, wiggling his legs and flailing his arms, "It's her first time from his side."

Prim nods, watching as I pull the kid back down and tuck him in my arm, "Do you need help? I've got nothing better to do."

"Sure," I say and she brightens up.

"So where are Annie and Finnick going?"

"To the Capitol," I respond, "They'll be gone for a few days, so I've got the little tyke. And he's been nothing but a problem so far."

Aiden giggles when I wriggle one of his toys in front of him and Prim smiles.

"He's getting big," She says.

"He's a growing baby boy," I kiss Aiden on his forehead and sit him down in the play pin I've set up. He takes immediately to his toys without missing a beat, "What kinds of bread are those?"

"Five Grain," Prim responds, opening up the box and handing over six prepared loafs to me, "Do you want me to put these away?"

I shake my head, "I've got it, I can't believe you carried that thing here, just set up the oven, could you?"

She nods and moves around the counter, brushing shoulders with me as I lift the box and carry it to the freezer, swapping it over to one hand so I can open the top.

With the bread cooking in the oven, I crawl down on the floor by Aiden, a warmed bottle in hand as I pull him up into my arms and press it to his lips. His mouth opens at once and he closes his eyes as he begins drinking.

"He's so quiet," Prim says and sits down beside us.

"Yeah," I whisper back, "He's always so quiet. I've helped out Annie a few times, but this is the first time I've been alone with the guy. Hate to say it, but he's growing on me."

Prim smiles and brushes his soft baby hair back from his forehead, "I think you're doing fine."

There's a loud, sudden knock at the door and she gets up to answer it.

We're welcomed by more guests, Clayton and Mila coming in with more boxes of bread to fill the freezer.

"Hey there," Mila says, walking up and pursing her lips, "Aww, what a cutie."

I smile back, sitting Indian style on the floor as Clayton reaches out to the counter and takes a seat carefully, "Right?"

"Right," Mila agrees, staring at me, "You're a natural."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Prim frown and move away, making distance as she stands by the stove.

"We need to be getting back soon, Mila," Clayton says, turning in my direction, "Lunch tomorrow, right, Peeta?"

"Of course," I respond as Aiden stirs, pushing the bottle from his mouth and whining angrily.

I lift him up, laying him over my chest and patting his back, brushing the side of his head with mine and responding with throaty shushes. He goes almost completely silent at once.

Prim's eyebrows rise and she's about to say something when Mila beats her to it.

"Damn," The woman smiles, shaking her head, "You are a _natural_."

Clayton nods in agreement, "It's hard to cry around Peeta," He smiles, dark eyes closing happily, "You'll make a great father one day. Once you have one of your own."

_If._

"That's right," Mila agrees, leaning close and kissing Aiden's forehead, "See you tomorrow, Peeta."

"Tomorrow," I confirm again and then they leave the house.

Mila walks by Prim, waving at her and saying: "See you later, girlie. Take care."

Over the next few minutes I burp Aiden, pacing the kitchen and dining room as Prim stares silently at the timer on the oven, her arms crossed over her chest.

Finally, he's fallen asleep and I set him down in the crib beside the couch, carefully making sure to position his head so that it can't roll around.

Prim looks at me and whispers, "Is he asleep?"

"Yeah," I say back, just as softly.

"You need anymore help here?" She asks, turning to me as she drops her arms, looking at me hopefully.

"I can always use your help, little duck."

She rolls her eyes, "I'm not _that _little, Peeta."

I frown at the tone of Prim's voice and look to her more carefully, at the narrowed brows and the glassy eyes, "Hey, is something wrong?"

She shakes her head but refuses to meet my gaze.

"Prim?" I ask, moving over to her and touching her chin, "Come on kid, what's up?"

Little Primrose turns away from me the second I say 'kid', walking over to the freezer and sitting on top of it. She's completely put out. Like a light.

"What's wrong?" I ask as I move over to her.

"Everyone keeps calling me things like that, like I'm still little, but I'm not. And I'm getting tired of correcting them."

I can't help raising my brow as she explains. I'd never had the problem with being referred to as a kid before, when I was younger. I can't even imagine why it'd bother her.

"Don't you like being a kid?"

"No," She responds at once.

"You know," I start, pulling a stool over, sitting down and looking at her, "When you grow up, you get all kinds of responsibilities. Right? Things change, and not always for the better, or easier. Are you so sure you want them to?"

She nods.

"Prim. Is this because of Mila? Of her calling you that little girl nickname?"

She shrugs and looks away, "It's not just that."

"But even I call you things like 'kid' and 'little duck'." I say and she nods again, "You don't like being little duck?"

"No."

I stop, watching her carefully as a tear rolls slowly down her cheek, "Oh."

She turns and smiles slightly at me, "I'm not upset at you."

"Well, I hope not," I say back, leaning in and pushing her knee with my arm, "Because I'm quite fond of you being just the way you are."

"I know," She sighs, "But that's the problem. I'm not."

"Why?"

Prim bows her head again, her fingers working together nervously and then she says: "When Katniss was my age, she was already really mature, and no one ever looked at her like she was a kid. It's because I'm her little sister, that they've met her–I wish I was more like–"

"No," I interrupt before she can say anymore, "Prim, don't compare yourself to her. You're not Katniss."

"No, of course I'm not."

"Your not," I try to reaffirm.

Prim nods then, but she doesn't look happy about it, "I know. But I wish I was."

"Why would you want to be Katniss?" When she doesn't say anything back I take a few guesses, "Is it because of what happened with the games? Because of the war? How everyone respects her now?"

"No."

I reach up and push the bangs from her cheek so that she can't hide her eyes from me, "Why would you want to be like her at all, Prim?"

She shakes her head.

"What if I told you," I start, staring into her eyes, "That I'm glad you're not like her?"

"I'm not," She responds, her shoulders shaking.

"Well, I am," I repeat, "And I'd never want you to be like your sister, Prim. Not even for a moment. You're so different from Katniss and that's a good thing, trust me."

"I just want to be pretty," She finally starts to explain, cheeks turning pink, "And I want boys to stare at me like they do her. She's beautiful. And like Mila, all of the guys like her too. Just like Katniss."

"That's not much to say."

She looks at me in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Primrose," I stand up, staring down at her and wiping the tears from her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs, "You are a beautiful young girl. You're right, you're growing up, and everyone can see that. You're growing into a woman right now, and you'll be stunning by the time you've finished growing up, but that doesn't just **make **boys like you. It doesn't make them like Katniss. You have to be yourself. And the more you are you, the more boys will like you. Being like Katniss won't make that any easier."

Prim stares at me, her eyes moving slowly down from mine, "But I don't just want _any _boy to like me, Peeta."

"Alright," I agree, _of course she doesn't–_

She leans in before I can stop her, before I can even register what she's doing.

Her lush pink, tear-salted lips pressing to mine in a kiss that's more than innocent. Her mouth opens slightly, soft golden bangs falling from her ear again and I pull away, holding her out at arms length to keep her back.

I blink in surprise, heart hammering uncomfortably in my chest as her hand reaches up to touch her lips.

"I'm sorry, Peeta–" She starts to whisper apologetically.

"Prim," I say unsurely, swallowing the lump in my throat and trying to ignore any part of my body that might've agreed with what she's done._ She's like a sister to me. She's... She's __**fourteen**__. It's wrong, no matter what._

Her eyes start to brim with tears again.

"Prim, you can't do that," I start, trying to explain, "I mean–"

"I'm sorry, I know you still like Katniss."

_Like Katniss? I've had sex with Katniss. Like isn't the word I'd use when referring to how I feel about Katniss. _Things I've done with her, Prim couldn't even spell.

"_Peeta," She breathes, panting, hands and legs shaking as she reaches up to touch my face._

_I lower to her, kiss the perspiration from her brow and leave my lips there, "I love you, Katniss. I love you so, so much." I sit back to look into her eyes, slowly moving my hips to meet hers._

"_I love you too," She says, eyes glancing down and widening even more._

_I grab her chin and force her to look into mine._

_Her hands run down my back, unsure of what to do as I push slowly into her, the fingers grip my hips and she positions her legs higher, allowing me to lower my waist._

"It's not even that," I correct her, shaking my head, "Prim. Even if Katniss wasn't a problem, that doesn't even begin to cover how **wrong **it would be for me to allow this to happen."

"Why though?" She asks in confusion, "You're only four years older than me, that's nothing. It won't be anything in ten years."

"Right," I agree, "In ten years, Prim. You're so young right now, so innocent. You're really, really young. Too young. I'm far too old for you right now. Can't you... Why me? Why not boys your own age?"

She shakes her head, "I can't just **choose **to love someone, Peeta. You know that, don't you?"

_I do._

"_Do you want this?" I ask, leaning over her and reading deep into her face, fingers of my left hand brushing the side bangs away that have begun to stick to her cheek from sweat._

_Katniss doesn't nod, but she says, quite firmly: "Yes, I do."_

I nod in agreement and set my hands down on the corners of the freezer, "Right now, you're a young woman, Prim. You haven't... You haven't matured. You–"

"I helped deliver a baby," Prim says, almost glaring at me as she motions to little Aiden, still sleeping soundly in his crib, "I've fixed up burn victims, stitched up your side. I've even... I've even seen a few men naked. I've seen things."

_I pull back to kick the pants away and I hear the silence of her. I look at her eyes stilled on me, taking in my body. Her face flush, a bead of sweat dripping down from her hairline, tracing the curve of her cheek._

My face heats despite myself and I shake my head, "Prim–"

"It's not that big of a deal, really."

"Have you ever even kissed a guy before?" I ask suddenly and her eyes widen, but she slowly shakes her head, "Prim, you don't understand."

She nods though and drops down from the freezer, "No, I know. You still just see me as a kid. Can I just... Can I make one request?"

"Of course you can," I agree and she puts a little hand up on my chest.

"Kiss me."

Her stare is steel firm and determined, the still innocent Prim I've grown with for these past few years, long blond hair in gentle waves down her back and shoulders, bright eyes and long eyelashes.

I start to shake my head but she glares angrily.

"A kiss isn't bad," She argues, "I just want to see what it's like, you know? I just want... For one moment to feel like Katniss does when you kissed her, like a woman."

"Prim," I start to object but I close my mouth at the sad look she's giving me now. _Maybe if I do this, she'll actually leave it at rest. Prim's old enough and mature enough that it __**might **__keep her quiet. And really, there __**is **__no harm in just a kiss._

She's fourteen. That's really not _that _young. Not for something as harmless as a kiss.

But if I go through with it, if I actually... **kiss her**, like a woman, that's going to change a few things between us no matter how much we might try to stop it.

_I have a lot of respect for Prim. She's a brave... Young woman._

The man that she finally gets with in the end has to be the best by far, and I'll expect no less. He can't hurt her like Katniss has burned me so many times now. And Prim really deserves to be treated right.

So I ask: "If I kiss you–really **kiss** you–you have to promise me something, Prim."

She nods.

"Promise me that you'll... You'll try to look at younger boys from now on. And that you'll be careful with them, too," I request and she nods again, standing as still as a stone statue in excitement.

"Alright."

"You can't let them use you," I continue, "You have to respect yourself, Prim. Okay?"

"You mean like sex?" She asks, smiling slightly.

It forces a chuckle from me and I nod, "Exactly. That's what I mean."

"I will," She says, "I mean, I won't let boys just push me around. I know that, Peeta."

My own heart begins to race now and I have to reassure myself again that _nothing is going to come of this_. I'm not going to be made a complete and horrible creep for kissing this girl, this girl who's almost four **years **younger than _me. It's not like I have any other intentions._

I reach up and touch her chin, thumb brushing her bottom lip as I stare into her wide blue eyes, her blond bangs shining brightly in the light from the kitchen window, the pale, clear cheeks, void of freckles and blemishes. Still young and harmless, and beautiful.

And I shove the emotions for Katniss away, push the images and memories from my mind as I look at Prim. _She deserves a real kiss_, if I'm going to do this. One from a man that's thinking about her, and no one else.

I lick my own lips before leaning down and pressing mine to hers again. Her head tilts in my hand, mouth opening and... _Well, there isn't more to it than that_. I lean in closer, moving slightly against her, feeling the sharp breath from her nose, before I pull away, feeling my chest tighten, and stare down as she opens her eyes.

She looks at me, body sort of shaking, and then surprises me by smiling wide and cheering up considerably, "Thank you, Peeta."

"Prim," I respond back, watching her move from my front, to the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of soda.

"Guess I should try to get over you now, huh?"

I nod carefully, heart racing, as she walks to the door with a happy spring in her step, the tight stone-washed jeans hugging her hips, white, frilled shirt riding up her back a bit, sneakers gripping the wooden flooring as she sips from the bottle and leaves the house with a side smile at me.

_Nothing serious. Done. Just like that._

_Only, I'm not._

Maybe, in a couple years, it'll be alright to feel like this. If I'm ever able to get over Katniss, if I can ever move on from everything that's happened, I have a feeling Prim will be standing there, waiting for me.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Hope you all enjoyed!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	60. Option D: Epilogue

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option D<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Who just hit 200,000 werds+? This girl.

Alright people, this is the end of D fer now, I hope you all enjoy the massively painful cliffhanger.

If you have any questions about it, any requests or things to submit fer the interview, PLEASE do so SOON.

I would like to get everything done asap. So don't be shy!

After this, Option A+P 14 will go up, in about three days. Then there's the interview a week from that, and then the month hiatus. More news of that will be in the A Author's note.

And as fer the lyrics, lets just say I've been watching a TON of Supernatural.

Enjoy! And may the odds be ever in yer favor!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Anonymous Review Responses:<strong>

**Katina Maroon (Chapter 55):** "Lol, well I guess you don't see it the way the rest of us do. ^^; You'll live tho, I'm sure."

**Romance Reader (Chapter 56):** "You _want _to like Gale? Lol, why?Jk. But you might get to see some of Gale's side in the interview. ^_~ As fer Prim, yeah she is. We'll get to learn more about that in the fourth book. It's not really a person, but it isn't good, either. And I rly like the idea of Prim and Peeta, she really is like a beacon of light fer him, so positive and happy. She's what he needs right now. And the stitching up, is that a request fer the interview? ^_~"

**Romance Reader (Chapter 56): **"Yeah, they're both doing the wrong thing, that's kinda the problem. But I can't imagine these two would be able to sit down and talk about it, Gale's too immature. Yer right with everything tho, I'm glad you've read into it correctly. Peeta has really just decided it's best to keep his distance. It'll all help unwind itself in the fourth book tho. ^^"

**Romance Reader (Chapter 59):** "Yeah, it affected him a lot more than he counted on it to. ^^ I really like that yer taking this Preeta side of HG well. And I don't think Peeta's kissed anyone else, honestly. He's far too emotional to just give something like that away, you know? So yeah, it was kinda a big step, even fer him. ^^ it's time he branched out though and loved someone else. You read everything of mine perfectly. I just adore you. I like yer suggestions and speculations on the fourth installment. You'll have to wait and see. But I'll give you this bit: We WILL see other boys, her age and... _Not her age_. We're not waiting ten years no, the ages of these two is pretty clear, and I'll make sure I get time lapsing through to readers as well. ^^."

**Romance Reader (Chapter 59): **"That's fine, just as long as you ask it, the only dumb question is the one not asked. Even if it's in a new review. XP You ARE over-thinking it though. He doesn't mean literally at all. He just means that they're mature. Things that Prim probably hasn't given much thought or imagination to. That's all."

**Jepolly (Chapter 58): **"I'm glad you liked the epilogue. And the Peeta/Prim choice is yer own free will. There is going to be a Peeniss version tho, I promise."

**Nikki (Chapter 58):** "You seriously OD'ed on my fanfic. ^^ Welcome! I'm glad you like it. Did you read all of the options? XP I'm glad you've latched on and I hope yer here to stay! There is MUCH more to look forward to with me, I have MANY options ahead. Not just these five. ^^"

**Taryn (Chapter 58):** "I hear ya, it's a real tear-jerker. Glad you liked it tho, and I'm kinda blushing that people think of my stuff while at werk as well. It doesn't just go out the window when you leave the computer. ^^ Thank you much! Glad you dropped in and left a review!"

**Lauren (Chapter 58):** "I think nearly everyone responded that way. I was rly hoping I didn't have to sit in a salt circle fer the rest of my life, incase everyone started sending evil spirits to haunt me. XP"

**HG Love (Chapter 59): **"Glad you liked it! I am as well!"

**Anonymous (Chapter 58): **"Omg, thank you. Thank you so much. I'm glad my fanfic affected you so much! Sorry that you cried, but also glad. And I love and adore those two songs. ^^ Yer player has it out fer you."

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Once I rose above the noise and confusion,

Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion.

I was soaring ever higher,

But I flew too high.

On a stormy sea of moving emotion,

Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean.

I set a course for winds of fortune.

But I hear the voices say:

Carry on my wayward son,

There'll be peace when you are done.

Lay your weary head to rest,

Don't you cry no more.

Carry on, you will always remember.

Carry on, nothing equals the splendor.

Now your life's no longer empty.

Surely heaven waits for you.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, there's no real positive test we can run as of yet, to figure anything out. You're just going to have to wait and hope that nothing happens."<p>

I nod slowly and look over at Ben who's laying on an operation table a few yards away, his face ghost white with sick as they keep him under, a sheen of sweat on his cheeks, lips moving as he shivers.

On a table behind me lays another person, a young girl with pale blond hair soaked wet with blood. She had just enough time to tell the doctors her name, Ellie, before she dropped, and they've been caring over her since.

"Even if we get the cure, we can't administer it to you until we're absolutely sure you have it," Laciel says, "There's no telling that if we even manage to make a cure and give it out, that it wouldn't result in complete immunity. What would that do to you if you hadn't had it yet? It could make things worse. It could give you the disease and make you incurable. There's no telling the effects right now."

"Alright, alright," I agree, raising my arm slightly to stop her from talking, "What about Ben? Is he going to make it?"

She shrugs, reaching up to mindlessly touch the scar on her left eye, "I don't know, it's hard to tell right now. I mean, he doesn't look good. And the wounds are... They're bad, Peeta."

"Ben?" A voice comes from the front door of the operating chamber and Laciel looks back.

"That's just great," She mutters as the young man turns to us after talking with the front clerk, "Kurgan couldn't keep his mouth shut, I guess."

The man's eyes widen and he comes into the room, barely registering us as he sits down in a seat by Ben at once and takes his right hand up to fold it between both of the other man's.

Ben opens his eyes carefully and turns, "Hey."

"Hey," The other guy responds, staring at him intensely.

"Who's that?" I ask Laciel quietly, "Family?"

Though he doesn't look like Ben at all with his paler skin, black hair and blue eyes. He's very different from the big guy. Thinner, less built, _less aggressive_.

"I'd say friend," Laciel answers carefully, "But that doesn't even cover it. They're very close, like twins, brothers, or closer. His name's Oliver. A single father of three. His wife died a few years back from the same thing that's killing people now. We weren't even aware then of the muttation. I've been looking back on her file this past week. You can probably imagine that he's been a wreck since. Ben and him have been inseparable for the most part."

_A single father of three. That can't be easy._

"What's he do?" I ask curiously.

"Oliver?" Laciel asks and shakes her head, "Nothing. He's been through a lot of trauma. He helps around occasionally, but he's never had a stable profession or passion. Mostly, he just talks to people, and stays with his kids."

"Where are they now, if he's here?"

"Nursery, probably," She guesses, "Lots of moms and dads like watching other kids too. Oliver hasn't always been a stable father with them, even on his best days Ben's caught him asleep on the living room floor while his daughter nibbles on his toes, one boy making a mess in the kitchen, the other asleep on his chest."

I watch the young man, see the miserable, troubled shadows under his eyes and watch his trembling lips as he talks to Ben. _He's a mess. And if he loses Ben, he'll be worst. Maybe even completely lost._

I don't want to leave Katniss like that, alone and pregnant. She's sort of there with him too, having just lost Haymitch and her mother... _And little Prim_.

"I'll go check on the chemists," Laciel says, standing up suddenly and excusing herself.

Oliver, the young man, is pretty much in pieces now. One of his hands is curled in his hair, gripping his bangs out of his face so tightly they could tear out strands, hiding his self against the edge of the bed as his shoulders shake violently from sobs.

Ben is staring up, closing his eyes tight, lips pressed together in pain and I see the tear slip down, disappearing into his dark brown hair as he tries to comfort the other man the best he can.

"I'm not going anywhere," He says, firmly, "Come on, Oliver. Calm down."

_If he hadn't come along in the first place then this wouldn't have happened. _I'm not sure what **would've **happened to our group, and me, if he hadn't been there. But I hate to see this happen more than anything. _I can't help it but I like the guy, he's a good, kind, honest person. And I hate to see his–for lack of a better word–his __**family**__ lose him._

The man finally straightens up, eyes darting around, bloodshot from crying, standing and pressing his forehead to Ben's. I feel like I'm imposing on them, like I should give them some privacy.

"Hey."

I look up suddenly, startled, and see Kurgan standing there over me, looking sickly at the other two men.

"Hey," I respond back and he sits down in Laciel's chair.

"I see news reached Oliver, I guess Laciel told him," He says softly, swallowing and looking at me, "How do you feel? Still dizzy?"

Laciel? I can't stop my brows from furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah," I say, keeping the question to myself, "It's been coming and going lately, but it's steadily getting worse. Not good?"

Kurgan frowns more and shrugs, "I don't know. I can't say anyone sick had mentioned **that **as a symptom. There's not much we know though. But you should keep track of them, maybe even report them each time they happen."

"Yeah."

Ben suddenly turns to the man reaching out to pull him close and kisses his temple to try and comfort him. It's a sort of familiar, brotherly move that makes me instantly envious. Envious of the idea of such a close friendship. I know he does it to try and calm Oliver down once more, but it makes the younger man's sobs become stronger.

Kurgan stands up, "Come on, let's leave them to grieve together."

I get up as well and follow him out of the medical area.

"So Oliver," I start, curious enough, "He's kind of young to have three kids, isn't he?"

"Young father," Kurgan answers, smiling slightly, "His wife uh... Had triplets."

"Triplets?" I can't stop my eyes from nearly popping out of my head in surprise, "That's... That's kind of tough, huh? Triplets."

Kurgan nods, "Yeah, two boys and a girl that looks just like her mother. The kid has had a tough time with them. Even when his wife was alive things were hard. After she died, Oliver got well... _Distant_. Stopped coming out of his house, stopped talking to people, shut everyone out."

"And then Ben?" I ask and he nods again.

"Ben kind of adopted them. He just moved in one day, started taking care of them. It keeps Ben out of any other relationship though, but he doesn't mind. The four of them are a family now," Kurgan says, and I can hear the pride and enjoyment in his voice.

When I'd first met him, I would've sworn that he was Ben's younger brother,_ and this is why_. This deep happiness and pride, sort of like how Oeric treats Katniss. Even though, technically, Kurgan is the younger one.

"Oliver wasn't happy about it to begin with, but Ben grows on you," Kurgan says.

_That's right, Ben __**does **__grow on you, I've learned that myself_. And more than myself, I don't want him to die from this horrible disease.

_Not when Adler needs him._

_Not when Oliver and those three little children still need him._

* * *

><p>Katniss pulls the short copper-colored drapes from the frame of the room to expose the warm band of light and wake me up from the disturbingly miserable sleep I've been struggling to indulge myself in for the past six hours.<p>

"Get up already," She says, pouting, and shakes my shoulder, "Come on, Peeta."

I roll over to look at her and she gasps, touching my wet face.

"You're soaked to the bone."

I sit up slowly, feeling the sweat as it sticks my shirt to my chest uncomfortably, my shorts to my legs and even the blanket is drenched with perspiration from my day time nap, even though I'm freezing cold.

Katniss pulls it all away, dumping them on the floor, and is about to touch me again when I raise my palm to stop her.

"Don't, Katniss," I say and she stills at once, looking at her damp fingers with wide eyes, "Sanitize your hands. But don't touch me, just in case."

She nods, even though she's clearly upset by my persistence, and leaves the room in an angry flurry.

I get up numbly and stumble to the bathroom, climbing carefully into the shower as my body shakes and my teeth chatter together. I quickly turn the hot water on, as hot as humanly possible, and step under the spray to welcome the heat.

Once I'm done scrubbing down every inch of myself with soap, I dress in our bedroom and Katniss walks back in with a tray of sliced fruits for me, partnered with a tall glass of cold milk.

I sit, eating each piece, orange, than lemon, pineapples and kiwis, watching her as she puts new sheets on the bed. I follow her growing stomach, her long brown hair that hangs carelessly down from it's braid as she puts new pillows against the top frame of the bed and picks up the wet sheets with gloved hands, throwing them into a bag and setting them by the door.

"Want to walk?" I offer and she looks up, smiling, "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Let's go."

She takes the dishes and sets them in the sink for later, grabbing her jacket as we leave our room and begin down the hallway into Adler.

It's the best time I spend with her, honestly, our walks. And I probably missed this morning's, but I figure she has no problem doing it twice a day. _I'd do it three times, if I weren't worried about too much strain on her body, once is normally enough._

But doing an activity that involves helping out our baby is one that I enjoy even more because it gives us time to talk and not get so distracted with each other.

"How do you feel?" She asks between puffs of air, hands in fists up by her rib cage.

"Great," I respond honestly, "Just worried, I guess. But I feel good."

She watches me close as we begin to wonder across one of the largest bridges, "You don't feel dizzy today?"

I shake my head, "Nope, not at all. Have you heard any more about Ben?"

"He gets worse each day, and Oliver hasn't slept since yesterday morning, he's so miserable, poor guy. The cuts look awful too, they don't make it easy to try and think positively," Katniss comments, one hand smoothing over her stomach, "I hear they were bad with the group that came in, the ones directly cut by the muttation. If this was two years ago though, I would've lost my lunch for sure."

"That bad?"

Katniss nods and turns to me then, slowing down, "The board finalized their decision about the war this morning, Peeta. Did you know that?"

"No, I haven't heard anything about it."

"Their announcing it today, Kurgan has to do it though since Ben is under," She bows her head, "Annie and Finnick are down here now too, did you know that either?"

I shake my head, "No, that's news as well."

Katniss sits down for a rest on a bench, putting her hands in her lap, "They brought in any pregnant women, or people with disabilities and children from the group above. And they've also gathered all of the wounded into their medical unit, but they have to expand now, so that they can accept more. They've also got a rough cure made up, that they're testing out right now, but so far they don't have any real results."

"Sounds good," I say, looking up as Oeric approaches us, "Hey."

"Peeta," He responds, staring at me in concern. I know he's been pretty upset since I got infected, but I've seen him before now and he's always seemed relatively more collected.

"Is something wrong dad?" Katniss asks, beating me to it.

He sighs and nods, "A couple things. Will you two come to the board meeting in thirty minutes? It's important."

"Of course," I agree at once, helping Katniss up.

* * *

><p>Kurgan stands before us, looking upset and also confident, and he nods his head to both Katniss and I in recognition, "Please, sit."<p>

We take seats in the ones we'd had last time, as the members of the board each welcome us in their own significant way. I'm surprised that Laciel is here, even though she's still working on the cure for the disease, and there's a large pile of papers in front of her.

Athena sits nearby writing furiously on a clipboard.

The young girl I remembered from before, who I've learned the name of is Kylee, rolls an owl pendant around her neck between her forefinger and her thumb, nervously looking around at the board members with her lip gripped in her teeth.

Kurgan looks around the room, and then to me, "Alright, no point beating around the bush, right? The current cure for the muttation disease won't work."

It's not very formal, but you can tell that he's deeply upset by the news, and a few of the members bow their heads in anguish.

"Laciel?"

She looks up to him and nods, "We're working out something right now but the current cure only looks stable for a few moments, until... Until the person responds even strongly than before, resulting in immediate death. But we've got a few theories that multiples of our people are looking at right this moment."

Katniss's leg moves to sit against mine and I turn to look into her eyes.

She's worried about me, but that's nothing. I may have a few weeks, _even months, but Ben doesn't. _He needs this cure, and he needs it yesterday.

Kurgan swallows and looks down at his boots, "Should Ben... Should Ben not make it through, we've asked Oliver to take his place, and he's agreed. But we'll... Let's hope that it doesn't come to that."

_Right, let's hope._

_Adler needs Ben. He's done his best so far in keeping these people alive._

"Since he might not be making it out, we have current issues to deal with, things that can't be ignored while he's disabled," Kurgan says, looking at me, "You don't want the people from Thirteen to share their cultures and beliefs with us, and I agree, but there are others up there that need help. What do you suggest we do?"

I speak at once, already having given this some thought, "They need a place to stay no matter what we do. They're fine up on top, let them take the city, right? Adler's just been letting it rot away. We can help them for now, but we can't have any real interactions with them. Letting the people in that you have _already _is a risk, but we'll do what we can to help and then get them back up top as quick as possible. Can Adler handle sustaining them with food and more clothes?"

Kurgan nods, "We can. We have plenty of resources, and we can have some of our agriculturists go to show them some farming techniques. Maybe even keep a steady guard up top to keep away any wild animals."

"They should all be talked to as well, have things explained to them the best we can," I continue, "They're scared. There are probably a lot of angry fathers and husbands that want revenge on the Capitol. We need to keep them calm."

"Right, agreed," Kurgan says, his brows furrowing, "That's the third thing we have to talk about, Peeta."

"I'm ears," I respond and he smiles, but it's more with pain than with enjoyment of any kind.

He looks nervous suddenly, "I hate to say it, but we–"

"You don't want to join the war," I say before he can and he closes his mouth, staring apologetically at me, "That's alright, Kurgan. I understand. You have your people to worry about, right? There's enough going on here already with the disease and the people of Thirteen. You have to protect yourselves."

He nods, "We were considering it before, but then you got infected. And... Well... That doesn't mean though that when we figure this out, and get back up on our feet, that we won't talk about the issue again."

"I know, thank you for hearing us out in the first place," I bow my head to him, smiling to let him know that I'm not upset.

_And I'm not. I have my own son to worry about as well. So I understand._

_But when we go back up one day, after this war, and we see what's become of the districts... Nothing good will be waiting, I can imagine._

Kurgan's eyes widen as he looks at me, eyebrows narrowing, and I feel it at once, the dizzy spell taking over.

I hear the soft drip drop onto the table where my hands sit, at rest, and I look down to the two red droplets on the table top, reaching my hands up to cover my nose.

"Peeta?" Katniss asks in shock, backing away.

Laciel is at my side at once, holding a tissue out and I take it, trying not to touch her, "Hold this close, one second."

She turns away to get some paper towels across the room and the tissue fills with blood before my eyes, the crimson red wetting my fingers, dripping down my left arm and spilling over the bottom corner of my shirt.

Kurgan clears the room of panicking board members as quickly as he can, leaving himself, Katniss, Oeric, Laciel and I.

"He shouldn't be bleeding so much," Oeric says, moving forward as if he wants to grab my shoulders, "It's should stop soon, right?"

"Right," Laciel hands over large a pile of tissues and I grab them, pressing them to my nose as my vision begins to blur, as my heart thrums in my chest, "This is normal. It'll stop in a second."

But it doesn't stop.

The tissues fill with my blood, the corner of the table is coming increasingly close to me. I feel a sharp pain when the corner of my forehead strikes it.

And then I'm out.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I love you guys, hope you've enjoyed D thus far. It's not over. There's still the fourth installment.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	61. Chapter 14 OPTA: Truths

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

_Turning the author's note back into the authors note, see below fer updated schedules concerning the interview, hiatus, and more._

Alright, I was actually planning on SKIPPING posting A and P 14 until after the hiatus. But I figured meh, why not. I'll let you guys have this before I go. So don't ferget to skip on over and read P after this!

If you still have questions or requests fer the interview, do so NOW or ferever hold yer peace. It's going up in a week, guys. I have to start editing NOW... Because it's nearly 38 pages as is, without edits...

**38 pages. **Yeah, not kidding.

And just wondering... How do you read the fic? At home, on the comp, on yer phone? I've heard some interesting ones. You know who you are. /wink

As fer me and life and things, been watching a lot of Supernatural at the moment. We're almost done with Season 5 right now. It's been a long haul, but an awesome one.

Also been werking on OS.

Anyone else on Pottermore? Yeah yeah, more random, I know. Add me tho, srs. **WolfsbaneSnitch3924**. Shhh.

Oh, and news, something else coming up soon... Once Mockingjay is done... Some of you might remember my ORIGINAL story... Yeah, that thing. The one people voted on. That'll be coming out of the woodwerks too.

So many projects, so little time.

This fic can now be found in about 4 different places. Archive of Our Own, here, my site soon, Deviant art, Tumblr...

Yeah it's getting big, hopefully bigger as time progresses.

Once C and D are done in the fourth installment... That's not the end.

Just something to look forward to. So without further ado, read on and enjoy! May the odds be ever in yer faver!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Current Schedule:<strong>

Interview will be posted on May 2nd.

Hiatus for a month, until May 30th. That's four full weeks.

In this time you can visit the Tumblr page (tpihg . Tumblr . Com). The password is 'KaKaVegeGurl' and it's case sensitive.

Or you can visit my site fer other updates.

Once the Hiatus is up I will post A+P until they are BOTH finished.

After A and P are completely done, the final installment fer C and D will begin.

And who knows... there might be more.

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

It takes time,

To heal the wounds I've made along the way.

If I'm blind,

Open my eyes, 'cause I need to see again.

If I can feel again,

Will you tell me now,

Or wait til I'm broken down again?

Save me now,

I'm broken.

If I bleed,

My lies won't fill the emptiness inside.

I just need,

For something real to open up my mind.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14 - Truths<strong>

* * *

><p>Dr. Aurelius sits in front of me with a pad of paper and a pen, watching my eyes, watching my lips, watching... <em>My other side<em>.

I don't respond anymore, there's no point. I just sit, feeling my skin dry, feeling the hoarse, sandpaper of my throat, raw from screaming the night before. I'm tired of dreaming, tired of sitting here in the Capitol, wasting away like usual.

"If that's how you feel, then leave," Dr. Aurelius says and I don't realize I've spoken out loud. I never do though, anymore. It's like the filter has been removed in some senses.

I close my mouth and stare at him, turn my head away in shame. He doesn't want to hear what I've got to say._ No one does._

_No one wants to hear how horrible things are inside of here._

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," He says, looking down at his hands, "But I have a feeling that you do."

I shake my head and look away. _Try to forget he's here. Try to forget that... I'm here._

My hands squeeze tight, balling into fists and I swear I feel the scars on them pull, feel the ruined flesh disagree. That's all it ever does anymore; disagree. _Nothings right in my skin if I'm not there with her. And, therefore, nothings right in the Capitol._

"I can go?"

He nods and I hear the smile when he speaks, "You can go, Peeta."

"I want to talk to Katniss," I manage out through my ruined throat, "Can I do that? Can I see her? I mean, will she be safe?"

He nods again, "She'll be fine. Just... Tell her to call me, for once."

I get up and give him a last glance before I leave.

In the clinic's waiting room there's a screen on and the people of the vicinity, mostly District survivors, watch the screen with horrid, but satisfied, fascination.

_I didn't want this. I didn't ask for it._

I should have seen it coming though,_ hindsight is always twenty-twenty, I guess._

On the screen, there is a little girl with markings tattooed into her young, fair skin, a soft purple color of gentle swirls and dots along her arms, her neck, her face, any piece of flesh you can see is tattooed with the design.

Her long white hair is spotted with red as she runs through the forest, a dripping dagger gripped tight in her hands, green with poison.

Chasing after her is another person, a young man, I think. He's feminine, with thin, pale arms and sharp, elegant features. His long red hair trails in a violent wave behind him, over the length of his body and beyond as he runs after, spinning like a storm of blood with his hair following each movement, as he catches the girl and runs her through with his blade.

Her body shudders, chest thrust to the sky, back arching painfully as his dagger twists in her spine. Her breasts quake against the leather of her vest, blood blossoming over her front, pouring in a solid stream down her belly, soaking the crotch of her pants.

Her eyes widen, blue, stained with tears as blood spurts from her mouth and her fingers shake. She drops her weapon.

The boy, who must be eighteen or close, pulls the dagger out with a horrifying squelch of tissue and then he shoves her to the forest floor as his long red hair pillows his shoulders, nearly half it's length touching the ground.

It's hard to tell the natural color of his long strands from the blood matted in it, with leafs and twigs. Only really made easy by how it looks wet, and is clumped up here and there.

He straightens up, hands dropping to his sides as he smiles, and the cannon sounds the little girl's death.

The seventy-sixth games have ended at last. _And he's the Victor._

I turn away from the screen and walk out of the clinic, trekking past the broken stores, the crates of food, the rebels and buyers.

"Peeta Mellark," someone says from nearby, not a taunt or insult, but a sound of recognition.

I turn to see Gale Hawthorne himself standing with a hand rested firm on the gun sitting at home within his belt, a thin Capitol girl on his arm, smug smirk on his face.

_The ugliest person to happen upon, and I've done it._

I feel the annoyance and anger settle in at my sides, old friends, but I push that side of me back out of reflex_. I'm not like that. That's not really me. _It's the darkness inside talking, the **Snow **side. And unfortunately, the better parts of me kind of agree.

The girl's hand runs over Gale's solid chest, but she stares hungrily at me, "Peeta, huh? I've been wanting to meet you since the seventy-fourth."

Gale's eyes darken and I see his familiar hate and jealousy boil underneath, "So, you're not with Katniss after all?"

I raise a brow, "Not willingly separate right now. And what about you? What's your excuse?"

He looks away and I see the embarrassment, the shame. His shoulder-length brown hair tied to the back of his neck, bangs hiding his eyes.

_What a spineless coward._

"I thought you loved her," I say, offering the stick to him._** And he bites.**_

"Past tense," He crunches the words between his teeth, "You have to move on, some times. Besides, she wants you, not me."

"See you around, Gale," I respond, ignoring his comment.

I leave him there by the buyer's mart, leave him with his girl and her long brown braid, her dull gray eyes. I don't settle for second best, copy-cats that want to be _like _Katniss. I don't leave her broken. _Not like him._

"Peeta, is that you?"

Up ahead stands a woman that I actually _care _to see, and I can't stop myself from smiling as my eyes fall on her, the baby held firmly in her arms.

"Annie," I welcome, moving to her and hugging her and her child close.

She laughs, though sad and weighted, she's still happy to see me, "It's nice to finally see you out again, how do you feel?"

"Better than ever," I answer honestly, "I'm as good as I'm going to get, I think."

She nods and looks past me, "Gale wasn't bothering you, was he?"

I shake my head, "He never does."

Annie's eyebrows raise, "I wish I could say the same for him, every time we've talked he comes back around to you somehow. Are you going back to Twelve now?"

"Today, soon as I can," I respond and she kisses my cheek.

"Tell Katniss I say 'hi'," She whispers, smiling.

"I will," I pat her son on his head and kiss his temple, "Take care, little Aiden. I'll see you some time soon, right Annie? You'll visit?"

She nods and waves as I leave her behind.

* * *

><p>I take a slow, observant walk along the ruined roads of the smaller, simple town of District 12, so dismal and underground compared to the Capitol. Quiet. Emptier.<p>

Grass has already begun to grow in the roads, taking over in the absence of mankind, buildings lay in waste, chunks of wood strewn across every path in sight but the bulk of the bodies have fortunately been cleared at this point.

I sit down outside the burned, blown bakery, watch over the heaps of wood and glass, the shattered windows. The charred sign 'Mellark', smeared with a rude scuff of black ash. I feel my chest tighten, my eyes burn as I look at what's left of my home. The place I grew up, the place I was raised._ I allow myself to grieve._

Memories wash my brain with their late, dull ache. Walking into the front door with my arms full of school books, that cheerful bell ringing, sounding presence and my dad turning in his baker's apron, all broad smiles and warm welcomes.

I can hear the stumbling feet from the floor above me, my brothers wrestling. My mother's shrill, horrible voice from the kitchen, telling me to get started on my homework and to be done before dinner beats me to it.

Just as clear as her voice, I can feel the millions of smacks on my cheek, the bold words she'd say to me, or threaten with. My dad coming into my room with a small box folded in his large hands, smiling, wanting to share love-story woes to try and cheer me up. Because remembering one-sided love was always better than thinking about how miserable I was.

I can remember walking in on Ven making out with his girlfriend on my bed. Her white frilled blouse unbuttoned to her stomach and his wet mouth open on her exposed chest, hands gripping the sides of her rib cage.

Katniss walking by the door each and every morning, that signature braid bouncing lively behind her like it's own character.

Her little sister struggling to keep up with her long, careful strides, the tail of her shirt poking out above her jeans, blond hair pulled back from her face as she looks longingly at my cakes.

Or Milo trying to clean up my bleeding nose when I'd lost a wrestling match at school, mopping the glob of blood from the corner of my lip and holding my chin up so it didn't drip onto my clothes; as he checked to make sure my nose wasn't broken, and then keeping that secret with me from our parents, because, at least, my mother would be furious.

My hands rasp over the charred bottom of the front door frame as it tries to bite into my calloused fingers and I walk inside, shoes scuffling over broken, tan-colored tiles. Tiles that I'd cleaned and mopped, swept countless times before.

Shattered plates on, scraped up big handfuls of dried dough that had been spattered across the floor, a spilled cup of sticky juice, tracked in mud or snow before thinking twice, embraced the grooves between each tile with my own tears on even the best of days.

I leave the bakery behind with it's memories, walking out of the town, allowing the charred frames of buildings passing by to become nothing more than blurs.

Out in the fields, I sit and let the panic settle down, try to relax my hands in my lap; long enough to stop their shaking. I see, just past the dead electric fence, a batch of wild flowers hugging the metal lines, kissing the previously violent wire with their soft velvet petals.

They look at rest, welcome_, comfortable._

Little Prim's out there somewhere with them, picking up the wounded ones, walking her goat out there to eat the wilted flowers that have passed _like her_.

The idea strikes me so sudden that I stand up and nearly give myself whiplash as I'm still looking down, watching the gentle fingers of a dandelion blow freely through the wind, watching the sun shine down on them as they spin through the country breeze.

If there's nothing left to do for her, then I'll have a bed of primroses laid out around Katniss's home to keep her warm. To surround us for the rest of our lives. To welcome her when she comes home from hunting, like Prim would've.

I dust off my pants as the sun comes down and then head into the Victor's village, dragging my feet through the empty kitchen and up the stairs, climbing bonelessly under my clean bed covers and allowing sleep to welcome me for the morning ahead.

* * *

><p>I haven't been out into the woods of District 12 alone before, Katniss has always been with me. And that's why I have the dagger on my hip, ready in a second for anything outside of the norm. But nothing bothers me.<p>

It only takes a short looking before I spot them, nestled carefully in a strong batch grass and trees grows the wild evening primrose.

Behind me, I carry a small gray, worn wheel barrel and set it down at the scene before taking the shovel and gloves to the ground, digging up the bushes and saving them. I carefully pile one after another, their long roots tangled in clots of lush, healthy dirt.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, digging down until the barrel is full, and then I carry them back to the side of Katniss's home in the Victor's village.

Alone still, I begin by clearing out the grass and weeds along it's frame, finally digging through the damp dirt, to get into the meat of it.

The door opening around the front of the house startles my heart and I see Katniss make her way around it, stopping in shock and pulling up short when she sees me standing there, sweated enough to soak the front, back, and pits of my shirt, dirty from the morning's ware.

Her beautiful long brown hair catches the sun at once and her face lights up when she sees me. She smiles wide, gray eyes blinking wildly to stop her tears and stealing every other beat of my heart for their own.

"You're back," She whispers, her soft voice rustled from sleep.

I nod, "Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday," She almost leans into me when I start to speak, but she stops herself, staring still, "By the way, he said to tell you he can't keep pretending he's treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone."

She looks me over, eyes moving to my forehead again like before, but I still don't know why. I haven't seen myself since before the end. And I honestly don't care to. I'm still me.

I run my own eyes down the span of her white muscle shirt as it clings to her thinned frame, her nipples hardened under the fabric. The blue pajama pants hug loose on her waist, strong lines of her hip bones jutting out, the milky button of her stomach and beginning curls of an area I've explored as much as the line of her jaw, memorized more than her eyelashes, hungered for more than her bed-whispers.

"What are you doing?" She asks suddenly as she runs her shaking arms through her hair and stares narrow-browed at me.

"I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her," I explain, holding my eagerness back, "I thought we could plant them along the side of the house."

Her eyes move at once to the roses and I see unreasonable anger register on her face, the explosion about to happen. She stops though, lips pressing together, feet forcing her forward and her pants slide lower on her waist.

She presses her nose to my sweat-wetted chest, her cheek as well and I feel her thin, shaking arms wrap around me as she breathes in, fingers clasping the back of my shirt in her grasp.

I rest the shovel back, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head upon reflex.

"I've missed you," She says as she nearly moans against my right nipple.

"Me too."

She breathes in again through her nose and then whispers, as if she doesn't want me to hear what she says, "You smell so good."

I smile, laying my left hand firmly on the back of her neck as I hug her tight, feeling the short hairs there caress my fingers as they curl happily against the brace of her spine, "I'm so sorry, Katniss. I'm sorry about Prim."

She nods against my shirt, pulls away, "Dinner tonight?" and then walks slowly back into the house, locking the door behind her.

I don't let it bother me._ She's shaken up, I understand._

So I grab back up the shovel and continue my work on the side of the house, resting the primroses by it's frame, where they should be.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review! And I'll see you next week.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	62. Questions:Deleted Scenes:Requests Part 1

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Interview Part 1<br>**

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Definitely the longest anything ever.

This is straight up... 30+ pages (20k werds) of content fer my readers. So I broke it into two parts (The second part going up tomorrow). Something to hold you off fer the next month, I guess.

Within here yer going to find the following:

Part 1 - Questions, Deleted Scenes, and part of the Requests.

Part 2 - The last of the Requests, Previews, News of further Options, and The title of the fourth installment.

Enjoy! May the odds be ever in yer faver!

~KaKaVegeGurl

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><p><strong>Questions<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>What are your Pet peeves as far as fanfiction goes?<strong>

Besides for bad plots, Mary-sues, and people thinking they can write when they really, REALLY can't?

The word 'Arse' in any fic that isn't Harry Potter is something that really grinds my gears. Particularly in Glee fanfiction. I can't say in HG fanfics, because I haven't rly read any, but it would bother me as well.

Other werds that I have serious qualms with are:

Hindquarters, Hackles? And Haunches.

Those three make me wince when I hear/read them ANYWHERE.

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><p><strong>How many options of The Hunger Games fanfics do you have already?<strong>

Over 15, including the 5 you know. They range from Peeta and someone else (Prim?) besides Katniss going into the games in TBBA, to them being mentors together in PWPP, for Option B Specifically, to what if the bullet had been an inch or two higher at the end of ISDP Option B.

The options are still growing, I just added 3 more this past month.

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><p><strong>How do you manage all your chapters within a story? e.g. as you're writing a chapter, do you only develop it in one direction and edit it until you're satisfied, or do you find that a single chapter can go off in different directions (perhaps just with minor scene alterations) such that you end up with various versions of the same chapter and then at the end you pick your favourite? If you do end up with various versions of the same chapter, do you keep them all with different version numbers or do you delete all but the one you decide to go with?<strong>

Pretty much every option I have has a set path where I've decided it will go. It has a planned linear path to go through.

I leave the middle area open though, fer any character development or situations that may cause interest and stir in the readers. Most of the actual scenes aren't really planned out.

Fer example, in Option C I knew that I wanted a stronger Peeta that would burn out quickly because of what happened with Katniss. I knew I needed Coin out of the picture, Gale in, and I needed Katniss to be completely confusing.

What happened on a complete accident and WASN'T planned was Coin dying the way she did, Peeta admitting his love at the wedding, and even Clayton wasn't ever planned as a character until he just _happened_.

I knew I wanted a love interest fer Peeta, that he wouldn't necessarily notice to begin with, because he's Peeta. Clayton just sort of happened. I introduced him and then I was like_ hmm... He should be blind... Hmm, he could be Mila's... Brother. _None of that was really planned.

Even Annie wasn't planned. At ALL. She just jumped in.

First she was at the interview and then I thought '_aww, Peeta should help her out if I decide to kill Finnick_'... So that happened... Next thing I know, she's out picking herbs.

Finnick was also originally going to die in C.

Even the muttation wasn't planned at all, he just happened too.

I just had a set path of where I wanted it to go, and then after that the story wrote itself.

There have been ideas fer alternate things in some options, those are all written down collectively and some have been slightly developed. ^^

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><p><strong>What kind of work do you do that allows you so much time to write and to think about writing? I say 'so much' because of all the different chapters and the frequency of your posts! How do you manage your time?<strong>

I don't werk, that's how.

No, I'm kinda kidding. There's a bit more to it than that. Honestly, I'd be werking right now, if I could.

I'm on a six month vacation at the moment, but I did have werk before.

My old werk allowed me to do a lot of things tho. I werked like 12 hour shifts, 6 days a week, and in that time had two fifteen minute breaks and a half hour lunch to write each day.

What I'd do was: I'd write my content, take notes DURING werk, and develop them on breaks. I have a text-to-speech program that I'd record the chapters and put them on my ipod and then listen during werk, writing down corrections heard by ear.

It was an assembly line, making stuff fer MRIs. Very fun werk, very freeing. And you get free range to listen to things.

But right now I'm on a break, on vacation in Canada with my fiancée. During this time I spend most of it writing either this fanfic and all it's options, fanfic shorts, and Only Skin.

I think in the last two/three weeks I've actually managed like a steady 10,000 werds EACH DAY.

I have three chapters of a Glee fic written that I haven't posted, and may never see the light of day, four chapters of a HG fic I haven't even MENTIONED, and a few other options written of some that people don't know about.

Also, I wrote ALL of Chapter 7 of Only Skin, which is 12 pages in font size 14... In one day. Sat down, started typing, got back up and bam, a full chapter.

Most of the day tho is spent on tumblr, posting up chapters elsewhere, on my website, on tv shows, and writing. I don't often do much else right now, yay vacation. ^^

The lazy stuff is done early in the morning, I get up at about 3am, respond to reviews and emails, watch a couple movies while I clear out things on other websites, do infermation gathering fer my book, write a few shorts, talk on tumblr, chat with family, play SWTOR or Warcraft, or Mass Effect. It rly depends.

After that, I wake up TristAn, since he's a night owl, he sleeps from like 5 am to 12pm? I wake him up, and eat lunch, then I start writing. I write from 12 to 4, watch SPN with him, and then write more until about 8.

Days change sometimes tho, of course. There have been some days where all I want to do is edit, or read, or write OS, but I try to make sure that I don't get into doing that too often.

Yeah that's... That's about it.

* * *

><p><strong>Could you explain your book to us more?<strong>

It's pretty much just fiction, tho it has aspects of fantasy, and the supernatural. A lot of it is more about the inner struggle to become something _like _human after having yer soul torn to pieces by yerself.

The book deals with the struggle of Calvin Garyth, a twenty year old boy/man trying to pick back up his life and it just gets destroyed again, over and over and over again.

He gets a few pieces up and something knocks him over, a few more pieces and someone takes those and breaks them all again into even more.

It's really quite a painful tragedy, over and over.

It's about how he goes through these horrible things, and makes it out alive in the end.

How to survive dying inside.

And it's werse fer him because after the first real trauma to his mind over the past 9 years, he's overly sensitive to things. EVERYTHING is louder, voices, feelings, sight, everything is amplified and then something werse happens.

So THAT is amplified, and traumatizing even more.

He goes through a few ODD experiences because of this, over heightened emotions don't really make it easy with a girlfriend and it makes sexual experiences even MORE awkward than they already can be.

It's going to be pretty mature, cussing, talk about gay people, alcohol addiction, mpreg, and masturbation within the first 6 chapters of the book.

But what would you expect from me? Rly?

* * *

><p><strong>How many Original Stories do you have?<strong>

Very, very, very many. Very many... VERY many.

You can find this explained on the tumblr page, if yer so interested. ^_~

* * *

><p><strong>What does "KaKaVegeGurl" mean?<strong>

I'm a really big Dragon Ball Z fan. And, when I made my account on here, I didn't want it to be something stupid, like VegiGurl552, which was my AOL username... I think.

I wanted to avoid numbers ENTIRELY.

KaKa stands fer Kakarrot, which is Goku's Saiyan name. I capitalized the second 'K' because it looked better when I wrote it out.

Vege stands fer Vegeta, which is my favorite character. ^^

And Gurl is Girl, obviously. But it was a token to the biggest DBZ fan site of the time, Ginga Giri Giri. Lots of their members grabbed 'Gurl' in their names. This was way back with Castor Troy and VegettoEX... And Temple O' Trunks... Okay I'm nerding.

That was also when I introduced myself to ShiShi.

But yeah, that's where my name comes from. Tho I'm always tempted to change it, I probably never will. It's part of my history. And I'm not the kind to let go of things.

I'm pretty sentimental, and it's grown on me.

* * *

><p><strong>Deleted Scenes<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Deleted Scene from Chapter 3 Option B; because they use gas to knock him out instead.<strong>

The Peacekeepers come in, at long last, but when I look up... it's not them.

Dressed differently, in dark outfits, they take me up in their arms and rush me out of the room. If they'd arrived minutes before, my pants would've been undone. As it was, I'd only just finished making myself decent.

"Where are we going?" I ask, still sensitive, as they lead me down the hallway.

"Thirteen," one of them says softly, "Wouldn't you agree it's about time?"

I nod as they help me up a set of stairs, onto the roof of the building, "Yeah, you could've came earlier though."

He chuckles, helping me into their hovercraft and strapping me down in a chair.

_Out of one cage, into another._

I don't bother making small talk, this change of setting is so abrupt that I don't trust anything I could say just yet.

Why is it that when the big things happen, they happen so fast that you can hardly remember them happening at all until later? Why can't they happen in slow motion?

I can hardly grab onto anything for a second, I don't know how to react. I just hope that whatever is happening, it's good.

It's hours before anything particularly startling happens. At least, I think it's hours.

The hovercraft touches down in what I'm assuming is District Thirteen. The Peacekeepers, or soldiers, around me become excited. They're taking off their seatbelts and grabbing up their guns, getting ready to leave the vehicle.

I try to get myself out but the man beside me is already on top of that, unclasping me and helping me stand up straight.

He walks me out of the Hovercraft, onto an abnormally hard, soil ground, and then finally into a large pillow white building. I can barely pay attention to how far were walking, but before I can complain, I'm seated and a doctor is examining my sight.

He starts to check my pulse...

* * *

><p><strong>Deleted Scene from Chapter 7 Option C; changed from this one, for the greater good.<strong>

We join the group seating themselves, being shushed as the camera crew sets up, and I take a seat in one of the chairs furthest in the back, the last thing Gale or Katniss need to see is my face.

It's a complete joke that I've even come to this thing, honestly. _A complete joke._

I don't even pay attention to what's happening when Katniss comes in because seeing her in her dress breaks whatever control I have. Her dress isn't over extravagant, simple, form-fitting at her waist but loose below. It's a gentle green that matches perfectly to the cake that I made.

Her eyes meet mine for a moment while she walks, while she holds Haymitch's arm, while she joins Gale at the end and then she looks away.

I watch them up there, say their 'I do's, and when it's asked for people that disagree, or 'wish that these two do not marry', I remove myself from the gathering and take a seat across the way, where the food is and the party will be in just minutes.

They share their kiss and the group moves over into the area where I am, Haymitch takes up the seat by me and whispers something to me that I hope no one else hears.

"She wasn't completely oblivious of you leaving, you know."

"What did you want me to do?" I ask and he just shrugs, of course he wanted me to stand up and declare my love to her, haven't I done something like that before? I could've, maybe I even should've, but it didn't seem right to weaken our war cause with something like that while the cameras were rolling. And the next time I embarrass Gale, I want it to be more private, not out loud to everyone alive.

"I'm not in much of a romantic mood, Haymitch," I joke back, "Declaring your love to someone doesn't always matter."

"You should try and look a bit more happy for the cameras," Haymitch says, "They've been trying to ignore you since you look angry, but I think Snow would like to see you. And it'd be best if you were smiling and enjoying yourself."

I turn to him and raise a brow, "I'm not dancing."

"You should."

I shake my head and look out to the crowd as Katniss and Gale twirl together, "I'll dance and look happy when you dance with me." Which is as easy as saying 'never in my life'.

"You, meaning me?" He asks jokingly, "Sure."

I glare up at him, I honestly can't shake this bad mood, so in an attempt to get rid of wounded Peeta and angry Peeta, I stand and join him for a dance.

It's not so much me dancing with him as trying not to look outclassed. And soon Prim breaks in.

"Peeta, you'll dance with me?" She asks.

I pull from Haymitch and nod, "Of course, Little Duck."

She laughs and takes my hands as we walk out with the group, Katniss throwing us an odd look.

I twirl Prim and am just seconds from calling for a break when Katniss detaches from Gale suddenly and walks to us.

"Mind if I cut in?" She asks.

"Not at all," I say, about to give Prim to her when she grabs my arm.

"Not Prim," she says, staring into my eyes, "I want to dance with you, Peeta."

My stomach plummets but Prim's already gone far enough away that it's impossible to call her back.

Katniss smiles and is about to put my hand on her waist when I do it myself.

I can't stop from pulling her close and getting into the usual dance position we take up when we are at Capitol gatherings.

My right hand gripping tight on her waist and my left lazily wrapped around her lower back.

Her smiles widens as she puts her own hand over my heart and her other atop my shoulder. I'm use to her fingers softly brushing through the back of my hair, grabbing my neck, but it would be odd for her to do it now.

"You want to dance with the person that hates you the most?" I ask, trying to continue the facade I've been playing with.

"Oh, don't give me that, Peeta Mellark," she says, her eyebrows up and innocent, "You care enough about me to have been happy to see me when you saved me. And I know more. But I'm not convinced for a moment that you hate me. Not anymore."

I stare at her as she takes the hand from her waist, pulls it up and smells my palm.

"You were baking bread?" She asks suspiciously.

I nod and watch as she smiles, presses the hand to her cheek and grins.

"And I know that you kissed me, when I was under the morphling."

The color, I think, has completely drained from my face when she looks up at me again.

"What were your motives in putting me with Gale?" She asks curiously, raising one sharp brow, "I don't quite understand why you want me to be with him so badly."

* * *

><p><strong>Deleted Scene from Chapter 8 Option A; changed from this one, for the greater good<strong>.

Katniss is pressing close to me, the pearl in her fist as she opens it and shoves it into my palm.

The movement surprises me and I almost drop it when she breaks the kiss and turns to make a run for it. But I don't let her.

With one hand catching the pearl and holding it tight, the other that was caressing her jaw moves and grabs her fleeting elbow just as she reaches the door.

I stop her, turn her around, then drop the pearl at my feet and rest my forearm and elbow against the door by her head. Her back presses against it as she stares up at me in surprise and fear.

I didn't intend to frighten her, but I imagine that I should expect it. So I lean in, catch her lips again, and drag her up, taking her legs and wrapping them around my waist.

Her mouth pops open in surprise and her gasp is silenced when I slide my tongue into her mouth, gliding it over her teeth.

Katniss's entire body shudders against me and I wrap my arms under her body, pull her from the door and bring her to my bed. I shove the book out of the way and lay her down against the plush comforter, moving my arms to either side of her so as to keep my weight up off of her chest.

The kiss breaks and she stares up at me in surprise.

Her eyes are wide and the grin that sets in is only a forewarning as her hands move up to comb through my bangs, to touch my cheek and the corner of my eyebrow, and then she wraps her arms around my neck, lifts her own head, and kisses me again.

Katniss's entire body shifts against mine, her fingers grip the back of my shirt before she pulls it up and off, breaking our kiss to do so.

She appears calm, compliant, and excited, but her hands are shaking.

I take her jittering fingers in my hands and kiss the tips of her fingers to calm her, then run my hands over her arms in case she's cold. She is, but I don't think that's completely why she's shaking so much.

Her moan comes out when I lean down to kiss her jaw, to taste her salted skin.

"Peeta," She breathes in my ear and I get the flashes of times past spent. Times in her old house, folding over the sheets, panting against each other, excited and innocent. So much different than we are now. And I decide to let this dark side of me go.

_Taint me all you want, lie to me, try to hurt me, I think I'm in too deep with this for it to matter anymore._

But her breath of my name is more than just that.

"Mmm?" I ask, teeth nipping at her collar bone, hands moving down to lift her shirt.

"I... I don't know how you're feeling," She says, "I mean, I... Who are you, right now?"

Her question's valid and I have to answer it, so I pull back to stare down into her eyes, to enjoy the messy state of her braid, hair falling over her forehead, sweat beading and cheeks completely flushed, lips swollen from our kissing.

"I'm me," I answer, trying to convey the expressions I use to, trying to be as honest as possible as well, "I'm trying, Katniss."

She nods slowly and reaches up to touch my face.

* * *

><p><strong>Deleted Scene from Chapter 8 Option C; changed ending<strong>.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him, feeling impatient. The hovercraft leaves soon and, if I don't make it–

"You're not going," Haymitch says, "Boggs and I both agree that you will be a distraction to Katniss, Gale, probably the entire team. So we want you to stay here and control a team, record some propaganda shots on your own. But we don't want you out in the field if you don't have to be."

"I have to be. Haymitch–"

"I know, Peeta," He says, voice softening finally, "I know, but I don't think that you're thinking very clearly at the moment. You're steamed up about Gale and Katniss. It's best you stay here, trust me."

"Haymitch–"

He raises his hand again, "I'm sorry, Peeta. But our minds are made up, you would just be a problem out there. You're most effective here."

I tighten my lips together and then do the only thing that I can do; I nod.

Haymitch smiles reassuringly and pats my shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll be around to make sure that Katniss doesn't get herself into too much trouble. I'll watch over her, for you. And Boggs wants you to guide the second team."

"Second?" I ask, raising a brow.

"Boggs wants you involved in another team, as a strong, familiar voice. That way, while I take care of the team that knows me personally, you can control one that can be as equally effective because they're being led by Peeta Mellark."

I sigh, bowing my head and nodding, "It sounds like your mind is pretty much made up."

"It is," He says sternly, "I'll keep you updated with Katniss."

I nod again, "Thank you, Haymitch."

"You're welcome," He takes my bag from my shoulder and sets it on the bed, "Now, you need to come with me."

The place he leads me to is one that I've never personally been in, but I take the seat beside him and put on the headphones as he does.

Haymitch, himself, is just feet from me, nearly an arm's reach. He makes a motion to something on the side of the headphones and instructs, "Twist it forward."

I do and it connects, suddenly my ears are flooded with talking.

"Try to keep it clear," One woman says, her bold voice, possibly the lead of the team, "Otherwise we won't be able to hear Peeta."

Haymitch touches my arm to get my attention, "The keys on your board enable you to talk to each one on their own, and the one that is red, you talk to all of them at once. It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it."

I look down to see the board, names listed over each key. 'Anderson', 'Erwin', 'Snyder', 'Gray', 'Morgan', 'Walker', 'Collins', and 'Ackles'.

The one entitled 'Walker' lights up as she's talking, "He could be here anytime soon. Until then, you can prep yourselves on acting like normal human beings."

"We were just playing," 'Anderson' says, "Nothing harmful."

"Daniel," the name 'Morgan' lights up now, "Just keep it to yourself."

A few of the names light up as they all agree and I turn to Haymitch, "I feel like I'm listening in on a conversation."

Haymitch grins, "Well, introduce yourself."

The line, now dead, begins to stale when I finally decide to announce my presence, "Hello team, I'm Peeta Mellark," Going off instinct, I decide to start with a light joke, "You guys ready for a vacation?"

They immediately buy in.

'Walker', the first to respond, is a soft woman's voice, and she says: "Not permanently. But a short one would be nice."

Anderson and Snyder chuckle and then Morgan adds: "I think we can all agree to that."

"How about you, Peeta?" Asks Gray.

"I was ready a couple of years ago," I chuckle, holding down the red button.

The eight of them laugh at my comment and, letting out sighs, the leader of them, 'Walker', asks something I'm not prepared for.

"Weren't you suppose to be going with Team 1?" She questions, "That's what I heard before, and then it changed. I bet you'd rather be out there with Katniss."

The rest don't comment, allowing me to take the ground.

"I'd like to be with Katniss, but she's in safe hands with Haymitch," I say, "I trust him with her. But I'm going to do everything I can for my team. My concentration has to be here, otherwise we'll lose people, right? So don't you worry about me."

'Walker', to my surprise again, responds boldly, "We don't trust anyone else to get us through, Peeta. Thank you for taking the role. I know it wasn't ideal."

* * *

><p><strong>Original Scene from Chapter 9 Option C; changed for detail and plot purposes<strong>.

It feels like something is missing in my life now.

And as the days passed, it was me... watching a train crash in slow motion. Destructive, heart-wrenching, and completely inevitable.

_Out of my control._

Whatever control I could've had was stripped away.

I didn't really sit by and watch the action during the war. I didn't even record much propaganda. It was everything I could do to just live through every day, hands shaking in fear for her.

But Haymitch kept me up to date. 'She's been hurt', 'She's fine'.

'We've lost contact'.

The realization that _she's gone forever_. That Snow took her out at last.

It was all I could do to control myself.

_Doesn't matter,_ I try to reassure myself, _I lost Katniss a long time ago. This.. This doesn't hurt at all._

_Right..._

_Yeah, it hurts, it hurts a whole hell of a lot. But it's all I can do to keep moving forward._

In an escape attempt, I have Haymitch move me to District 12, to get some rebuilding done.

I'm not sent alone, I'm sent with a team of seven others that take into homes in the Victor's Village around me.

Slowly, day by day, I bake bread, help lift and move heavy piles of rubble, buildings, separating things, until I start fitting into a routine.

The other seven that came along have been respectful of my silence and it's comforting to know that some people will allow me to drift sometimes.

I don't talk much, hardly at all when it's not needed, but they're all fine with that.

It's not long before I'm completely disconnected from the war, and simply concentrate on what's happening here in 12. If they ever find Katniss's body, I'll never know, and_ it doesn't even matter; it shouldn't matter to me._

Even if she was alive, she wouldn't want to see me, she made that very clear. _So did her husband_.

And in the attempt to move on from Katniss, I find myself accidentally letting others in.

Of the seven, there are two of them that have become..._ dear to me._

The first, a blind man, young, nearly as young as me, by the name of Clayton. The second is his sister, Mila, who is just a year younger than him.

The two of them have given me a sense of purpose in 12, keeping me on track and making sure I don't stray.

* * *

><p><strong>Original Scene from Chapter 10 Option B; changed because Peeta has cyber arms, duh.<strong>

"Finnick!" I find myself shouting, stepping up to him and grabbing at the wire, trying to help him out. He's panicking, rolling around in it but it only manages to cut at my hands. I can't blame him, of course he's going to react violently.

"Stay still," I say to him, trying to pry the wire loose, "Stop moving, does anyone have a knife?"

He responds, blood dripping from holes in his cheeks, "Left pocket."

I fumble for his pants, trying to keep my heart rate down, I'm probably more afraid now than I've been in a long while. Finnick still has so much to live for. I'll die before he dies, if I have to.

My hands find the pocket he mentions and I pull out the knife, I don't even hesitate to flip it open and yank it hard immediately against the metal net.

Fortunately, it doesn't take more than that to get the first cable broken and I move to the next.

Finnick groans in pain.

The group around us breaks through an apartment door as Mitchell kneels down to help me but the rest are yelling at us to hurry.

I don't even glance up to see how close the danger is, but I can smell a sort of obviously lethal scent wafting from it, hitting my nose at once and I'm forced to cover it with one arm.

"Peeta," Castor yells from inside of the house they're hiding in, "Leave him, he's done for."

No.

* * *

><p><strong>Original Scene from Chapter 10 Option B; removed because it was a great idea, but it was incorrect. (Too well-written to remove ^^, and hilarious)<strong>

Before she's too far ahead of me, I stretch out my arm and take the Holo from Jackson, "I think that's enough of that."

She turns back in anger but stops when she sees my expression.

"I thought I made this clear."

Stubbornly, she crosses her arms and glares, firing up underneath, "I'm the only one that can read it."

"Which is the only thing stopping me from knocking you out," I remark, tossing the Holo to Katniss, "She's in lead though, not you."

Katniss smiles at the conflict and passes us both, She looks up at us and makes a motion for the door, "Let's get a move on."

I give her another look before we head out single file, me up in the front with Mitchell and Pollux. Finnick and Katniss are both just behind me.

The courtyard is probably at a considerable angle than it was before the wave of black mass came through the streets, everything leaning, windblown.

The tree to my right, which must've been find before the wave, is dead. It's stripped of it's leaves and the bark underneath burns, charred and heated. Whatever the mass was, it had ruined anything with life.

Even the grass under our feet had browned and crunched under our heavy boots.

Jackson pushes on past us with the Holo outstretched, like she was suddenly in command, but I follow after her, leaving Mitchell to take the lead.

* * *

><p><strong>Requests, Part 1<br>**

* * *

><p><strong>Peeta and Prim in the Snow Request:<strong>

_This isn't Option C, I promise. And by that I mean that I haven't chosen this to happen IN C. But it could? I just wrote it fer you fer fun, as a request. So imagine it in C, in about... 3 years or so? AFTER they're together._

I sit outside the Apothecary, waiting as the snow falls heavily around, flecks of the frozen water landing on my bangs as I huddle in my jacket for warmth.

The door opens suddenly and Prim steps out, long waves of blond hair whipping about her from the wind, her jacket buttoned tight as she turns to say something to her mother.

"Sorry," I hear her mumble as she crunches up next to me, "It's busy today, but I've got a short break, if you want to do something."

I stand and reach out with my mittened hand, pushing the hair back behind her ear and leaning down to brush our noses together, "What do you want to do?"

"This is fine," She breathes into my face nervously, taking my hand as she turns to pull me along through the snow.

We walk together to make distance from the town, stepping out into the frozen meadows, white fluff clinging over the earth and we take seats under the trees together.

Prim pulls off the glove on her right hand, reaching down to touch the soft snow, tracing her fingers through it and making shapes.

"Draw something."

I raise my brow, "Something like what?"

She smiles and moves to an area we haven't stepped through, "Here. Draw something here."

"You have to tell me **what **to draw," I say, standing up and picking a small branch from the tree above me."

"Alright," She whispers, thinking, "Hope."

"Draw 'hope'?" I ask and she nods, "Okay," I move to where she is and begin running the branch carefully through the snow, flecks here and there, moving my arm as I run it across, back and forth until there's a large flower drawn over the snow.

Prim stares with wide eyes, nearly watering as she looks at it, "What is it called?"

"Iris," I answer, smiling at her expression, "It means 'hope'."

Her eyes meet mine and she nods, "It's beautiful."

I chuckle, walking over to her and tucking her hair back again, leaning down to her face, "Now, if you'd only asked me to draw 'life'," I say, taking her cold hand in mine to warm it up.

"What would you have drawn?" She asks, suddenly breathless as she stares at me, eyes widened in hesitation.

"Primrose," I whisper, brushing my lips against her's in a soft, chaste kiss before pulling away and smiling, "I can't think of anything I'd draw that wouldn't have looked like you, Prim. Because I can't live without you."

* * *

><p><strong>Peeta and Prim in the Rain Request:<strong>

_This isn't Option C either. It __**could **__be. I just wrote it fer you fer fun as well. So imagine it in C, in about... 3 years or so also? Maybe before they're together... Hell iuno, I'm just having fun..._

Prim turns my face so that I'm looking at her and she wipes the tears away, drying my cheeks and staring up into my eyes.

Her gaze is intense and the silence fills the room as we stand there together.

"I just want to see you happy," She says softly and I nod.

"I know."

Her fingers wipe away another new tear and then I feel her thumb lightly brush across my lips.

Both my stomach and my heart twist in surprise at the action, as her eyes glaze over and she stares up at me, as she starts to lean in, her long blond hair hanging down her shoulders in gentle waves, the collar of her shirt opened a few buttons and I'm looking directly down at her enough to see her pale, freckle-less breasts pressing firmly against the fabric.

And then a _third _organ responds against my will.

"I–"

"I have to go," I say, nearly shoving her away and making a scramble for the exit.

The door clatters behind me as I start out into the rain, shoving my shaking hands in my pockets and walking quickly away from the Apothecary.

I'm almost at my house when I hear her shout after me finally.

"Peeta!"

I stop, turning back to see her running up the road, her jeans tight and soaking, blond hair turning a darker color as it gets wet.

"Prim!" I shout in response, so that she can hear me, "Go home."

She shakes her head, the sweater wearing on her, becoming almost see-through, "I'm tired of sitting around and watching you mope and whine like a wounded dog."

"Prim," I start to argue as she reaches me.

"Don't," She yells, shoving me with her right palm, "You fight yourself all of the time, Peeta. You keep it back and I know how you feel. It's so obvious. Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

I close my mouth, staring at her as she accuses me.

"Why can't you just admit it?"

"Admit _what_?" I ask, turning to look away from her intense blue eyes.

"I know you didn't like seeing me with Reinhold."

I start to shake my head, to disagree, but she shoves me again.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Peeta," She shouts, our bodies completely soaked with rain now, "And I've never seen you act like that before. Just–"

"Alright," I admit, shouting back, "Alright, I didn't... I don't think you should be with him. That's the truth. He–"

"He what?" She asks, staring at me.

"He's not right for you."

Prim glares angrily, "How can you say that? You barely **know **him."

"I know him _enough_. I'm tired of seeing you just give up, Prim," I say finally, "You just give up for any guy. They're not good for you, Prim. You deserve better than that."

She raises her brow, crossing her arms over her chest, "Do I? Like who?"

"Prim–"

"Like who, Peeta? There's no other guy like you, in case you didn't notice," She says, putting her hands up, "I'm tired of trying to find an alternative. Why can't you just accept that you deserve me and get over yourself?"

I can't stop my eyes from going wide, her words eating into me, and I want to argue, I want to say she's wrong,_ but she's not. So I don't._

"Why do you keep fighting _this_?" She asks, motioning between us, "Would it be so bad?"

"Prim–"

"Would it?" She asks again, moving in and staring up at me, her nose nearly touching mine, "I don't think it would, Peeta. Why do you–"

I grab her face in my palms, pulling her in and pressing my wet lips to hers, mouth opening and accepting her's as she gasps in surprise. Her body moves close, shaking against me as her hands reach up to touch mine.

Rain falls on our faces as we melt against each other, as we begin backing towards my house, moving up the steps and opening the door to let ourselves in.

My shoes squeak against the floor as I kick it closed and her small hands pull my jacket from my shoulders.

I free my arm from the sleeve, reaching up and thumbing her hair from her face. Her palms are pushing up under my shirt, trying to get it off and I assist her, taking the time to remove hers as well, water dripping messily over the floor.

"Prim," I breathe, opening my eyes to look at her.

Her wide, beautiful blue orbs stare up expectantly, innocent and new, and I pull her close, kissing her swollen lips and lifting her in my arms.

She's small, much smaller than... _Than I'm use to_, and she's lighter as well, especially with less clothes.

I carry her upstairs as she giggles, her fingers in my hair. I carefully lay her down in the cold bed, removing our pants and settling down beside her, wrapping her shivering frame within my arms and legs, resting a large hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating fast underneath.

Prim turns back and smiles, hair clinging to our necks, "You're too stubborn for your own good."

I nod in agreement.

"Can't be stubborn now, can you?"

"Why not?" I ask as her fingers lace with mine.

"Because I refuse to give this up," She says softly, eyes staring into mine before she buries her cold, wet nose against the skin of my neck, "No matter what."

* * *

><p><strong>Sexy Shower Scene Request (Peeniss):<strong>

_Now, I've had this request before. In the PWPP interview. But I'll go ahead and put it here. Since I already had this, I'll fulfill the alternative you gave me, afterwards. Enjoy!_

When we rise from the bed, and I can't keep my hands off of her, Katniss turns to me smiling and leans in to whisper in my ear.

"Shower?" She suggests, "Together?"

I stand up, run my index finger down her jaw line before pressing my lips to hers, "Alright."

She pulls me, our hands laced together, into the bathroom and starts to strip away what she's wearing.

Her underwear hit the ground and I can't take my eyes from her. When she frees her breasts I move forward to kiss her.

Once she's in the shower, I take my own time, removing my boxers and then join her.

With her back turned to me, I place my hands on her small shoulders, making them disappear in my palms.

I press my lips to the back of her neck and kiss the salt from her skin.

Her hand reaches up and rests over my right one, fingers lace together and she turns to stare up at me, "I love you."

I smile, lean down and take her lips. Her hair is soaking wet now and I cup her neck, jaw and cheek to pull her face close.

Her soft breasts press to the bottom of my pecks and she steps in to smear our bodies together. I feel her own hands, moving over my waist, nails running around to chase up my spine and settle in on my shoulder blades.

My own, sitting down at the protruding waist, slithers back around front to caress the baby bump of her stomach while I bury my tongue in the warm cavern of her mouth.

When the kiss breaks, I take up the bottle of shampoo and pour a generous amount in my palm, massage it against the pads of my fingers until it begins to bubble and then I turn Katniss's back to me to run my fingers through her hair.

Conditioner takes a shorter time and when I lather her body in wash, I rub my hands against every inch of her. Down her slim arms with the sponge, over her perfect, soft breasts, across her shoulders and trailing to her legs. She sighs happily against me as I clean her from head to toe and then she takes the sponge and does the same to me.

It's more of her confidence that turns me on than anything. She doesn't hesitate at my fake leg, or face flush when she sees just how much the act of washing her has excited me.

She, instead, washes everything without a backward glance of shaking fingers, and then she presses a kiss over my heart.

Done, she places the sponge against the side of the tub and turns back to me.

I grab her around the waist and pull her against me, raise one hand to move her hair from her face and trace the tips of my other hand's fingers down her back, over her curves and around to the front.

My palm settles there and I crumble down to my knees to kiss over her stomach, her fingers weave through my hair and she breathes in sharp when I run my fingers before my mouth, chasing down her stomach and pressing inside of her.

"Peeta."

She's surprised, and that's amusing on it's own.

I stand, lift her against the tiled wall and grab one of her legs up to wrap around my waist. I kiss her neck, suck the flesh, and thrust my fingers up into her as she lets out little sighs of growing excitement; more wet with every lift of my arm or flick of wrist.

She grabs my face in her hands and kisses me, keeping her lips close to mine she says: "Please."

"Katniss–"

"Now, please," she says and lays her forehead on my collarbone, her hands gripping my shoulders and her voice gasping when I thrust significantly towards her spine.

"Peeta," she whines in surprise.

It _has _been nearly a week.

I smile, grab myself and position against her entrance. With the water, and our own fluids, it's moist enough to slide in without a wince of hers.

Instead, she sighs happily and stares into my eyes while the hot water from the shower hits against my back.

I grab her hips, pull them higher up and when I thrust, the moan the lets loose makes my erection twitch. Her eyes start to close and she rests her elbows on my shoulders as she smiles at me.

_Satisfied, relieved._

I breathe heavily into her ear, caress her lower back and lift her against me.

As I move inside of her, need and release growing inside, I don't even notice the water above turning from hot to cold until I'm spent.

Letting her leg down and pressing my lips to hers, I turn the water off and lift her from the tub. Carry her out to the bed, wrap us up in the comforter, and then her, up in my arms.

"I love you," she says again, sighing against my chest and kissing it.

"I adore," I say, "every piece and part of you. Every inch of your skin, every cell in your body, every hair on your head. Each and every one."

She looks up and stares into my eyes.

"I love you with everything I have, Katniss," I continue, and run my index finger over her cheek.

"Forever?" She asks, smiling, and I close my eyes.

"Always."

* * *

><p><strong>Maybe with them peeking or walking in on the other Request (Kinda srs mature):<strong>

_The thought of Katniss walking in on Peeta was FAR too amusing an idea to turn down. So this would be fer Option C Option 1. Just fer fun, don't take it as canon, right? Tho I might be tempted to do that lol. This would be around the time that she could be coming back into his life again, still with Gale tho._

I set the large box of colored icings down on the counter, spinning the keys in my hand and looking around the room.

_No Peeta, no sign of him even being down yet._

I carefully set down the keys, looking over at the empty oven and then quietly begin making my way upstairs. _He's probably just asleep_, but it's best to check before I leave, in case he's out already.

My hand runs along the wall as I reach his room and I'm about to walk in, hearing his breathing coming from inside. I stop, slowly pushing the door open and peering inside.

I freeze, hand stilling on the knob as I stare in shock.

The morning sunlight comes in from the window above his bed, shining over his soft golden curls, highlighting his eyelashes and his cheeks, his wet pink lips as he licks them. His chest moves with heavy grunts and gasps, sunlight tracing his hardened nipples and down along his stomach until the blond hair begins at his hips.

I swallow, watching his hand move up and down in an unmistakable rhythm.

The toes on his right leg, exposed from under the bottom of the thin white sheets, curl as he arches his back and gasps.

He could be an angel, laying in the bed, pleasuring himself. The light making him glow, making his hair appear golden.

He grunts suddenly, nearly sitting up as he releases in his palm, mouth open as the look of ecstacy embraces him. The white pearl-colored liquid gushing out from between his fingers, dripping onto his stomach.

I stare, unable to remove myself from his bedroom door, watching as the beads of perspiration drizzle down his jaw, down the span of his chest and shoulders.

His eyes open, blue and innocent, and they catch me where I stand.

"Katniss?" He breathes out in surprise, cheeks flushed pink as he covers himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Role Reversal Idea, Realized:<strong>

_I wanted to give this a brief try as well, it sounded... Interesting. This will have to be in Katniss's pov to convey the sense of love tho. But I might try some with Peeta later. Who doesn't like writing Katniss's pov? This girl._

There's a loud sound from the bakery and I hear his mother scream again. At once, there's the distinct smack or hit and I look up weakly, through the rain, to see him walking outside towards me.

My stomach lurches nervously as I stare at him, the loaves of bread held securely in his arms as he makes his way over.

"Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature!" His mother shouts from the doorway, "Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!"

Peeta Mellark stands there by the cage, tearing off burnt chunks and tossing them in until his mother disappears back inside. There's a red mark standing out on his cheek where he was hit with something. I can't imagine a parent being that abusive, mine never would've raised their hands. I wonder what she hit him with.

And then he does something odd. He turns and, without even glancing towards me, he tosses over the two pieces of bread and rushes back inside.

The next day at school, I pass him in the hallway and feel my heart stutter, staring after him as he joins his friends by his locker. His cheek has swelled from the blow, his eye nearly black with little red dots and shades of blue underneath.

I stare at him as I walk with Prim and feel my stomach tighten when he turns at once, glancing at me for only a second before turning away to talk to his friends again.

I look down, tearing my eyes from him and see a young dandelion nestled comfortably in a small bed of lush grass, just within reach of me.

And since that moment, I have never been able to remove the connection between the boy I'd loved since my first day of school, the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion sitting there to remind me that there was more out there to turn to; that death isn't the only option, that you have to look around you first.

There weren't many moments in school that I was able to pull my eyes from him, and even though he didn't look back often, it never stopped my heart, beating for him, not even a second.

I wish I could've found some way to repay him for saving my life. I've always felt like I owed him, and I hate owing people. But I could never brave up the courage to go and talk to him, not when he was always so surrounded by the other kids, other girls.

The mayor finally finishes reading out the Treaty of Treason and turns to Peeta and I, motioning for us to shake hands.

His fingers grip mine, strong, firm and warm.

I force my eyes up into his, staring into the beautiful blue orbs and I try to give him some idea of comfort, squeezing his hand and smiling nervously.

He reacts at once, eyes widening slightly and he squeezes back, nodding.

* * *

><p><strong>Peeta and Katniss Meeting People in Adler Request:<strong>

**Kylee**.

We walk along the outstretch of pavement, following the warm band of light across Adler as Katniss holds my hand in hers, eyes moving to look around at the lush plants.

"It's so beautiful," She says, mouth gaping at the gentle flowers within arms reach.

I watch as she reaches out to pet at them, fingers grazing softly over their petals, "It is," I confirm, kissing her temple.

Katniss stares at the odd, luminescent flowers, sniffing them and wondering out loud, "I've never seen anything like them. What _are _they?"

"Monotropa uniflora, or more commonly... Indian Pipes," a voice says from ahead and we both turn to see the young girl that was at the board meeting, a flat sort of clipboard in her hands as she peers up at us from her spot seated under a pear tree, "Aren't they beautiful?"

Katniss nods as I rest my hand on her back between her shoulder blades, "They are."

I observe her oddly-colored hair, the cap of it blond and bottomed out with brown, and I have to ask, "Are you from the Capitol?"

She smiles in startled surprise and nods, "Yeah, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

She looks between us, "I'm Cinna's niece, Kylee... Kylee Grandt."

We walk over to join her under the tree as she looks down at her notepad and Katniss takes an instant interest, "You knew Cinna?"

Kylee shrugs, "Sort of. He wasn't very close, but yeah, he was my uncle."

"You know he's dead?" Katniss asks and my stomach sinks.

The young girl just nods though, hand reaching up to grip a pendant around her neck, "Yeah, I heard about it."

**Athena and Augusta**.

Ben walks us into a small side building, the beam of light wrapping under the frame of the roof to light the inside.

He turns back to us, smiling, "This is something you're going to want to see."

Katniss grips my hand tightly, her free one resting on her stomach as we follow him through a hallway and into a large room full with shelves that reach the ceiling, stuffed to the brim with books and scrolls.

I nearly feel my jaw drop as my eyes lock on a large, detailed map on the farthest wall.

At it's left side stands a woman, maybe in her early thirties with long, dark wavy brown hair and olive skin. Her arms are up, drawing details into the map, adding to it's length. She turns her brown eyes to me and smiles, "Hello there, hi Ben."

Ben rests his hand on his stomach, not completely unlike Katniss, and laughs warmly, "Augusta, this is Peeta Mellark," he motions to me, "And his wife, Katniss."

Augusta puts down her pencil and walks over, holding out a hand and I take it, "Peeta, nice to meet you, you're handsome."

I nod, "Nice to meet you too, Augusta."

She drops my hand and takes Katniss's, "Hello Katniss. Aren't you lovely?"

"You were at the meeting," My wife suggests nervously, smiling and leaning closer to me.

"No, that was my sister," Augusta turns suddenly to a door on our right, "Athena, we have guests!"

Another woman comes from that room, long brown wavy hair like her sister, eyes and features and color of skin entirely identical, "I know, I heard."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

That's it fer today, look forward to more tomorrow!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	63. Requests:Previews:Fourth Title Part 2

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Interview Part 2<br>**

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

The second part of the Interview, I got nothing else to say, just have fun. ^_~

May the odds be ever in yer faver!

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

><p><strong>Requests, Part 2<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Adler Back Story Request:<strong>

**The Birth of Adler, Inez Adler's Pov (Female).**

"_They lived here since before the war. The entire town was so small and invisible that when they were taking people from their homes, the Capitol army never even came close to here. It was a town that was very discreet."_

I stare at the cell phone on my night stand, tempted to turn it on and scroll through the contacts. Tempted to check my messages, but I remind myself that there won't be any.

_There'll never be another message left on it again._

I stand, walking to the glass table and pulling up my assault rifle, turning it over in my fist before slinging it on my back and zipping up my boots. I grab my jacket and pull it on, laying the gun out over it as I take up the keys, glancing back once more to the sleeping pregnant woman in my bed before I head to the door.

_If there's any day to go underground, it's today._

I walk out into the crisp morning, join the crowd of people as they gather around my podium.

Most of them are families of my employees, taking up refuge here in Hangington to shorten the commute to work. Gas has finally reached twenty bucks a gallon, and no one wants to drive an hour to work and back with anything at that price. I take them in as if they were my own. And it's probably best I do.

"People of Adler Industries," I say to them as they stare up at me, "It's been nearly a month since the end of the war. The Capitol and it's tyrant have been gathering up survivors and enslaving them since day one. We've done what we could underground to turn the bulk of our labs into homes for each and everyone of you. Not a single person will be left above ground, and you won't be permitted to return up here once this move is final."

They each nod as I talk, desperate eyes staring up to me.

"I'll be the last to enter our underground, and then the top team will settle in up here. Are there any questions?"

They've been knowing about this for weeks, so none of them raise their hands.

I nod, "By the end of today, each one of you will be settling into the new apartments below, and making your homes there. Let's hope this move goes well. We will be calling out names in numerical order with last named families. So those of you in the later letters, feel free to sit and relax, it shouldn't be too long."

I leave the stand then, Sidney Rowley joining my side as we sit back together to observe the team opening the underground passageway and pulling up their thick list of names.

"The electricity is going off in about thirty minutes up here, right?" She asks.

I nod.

She tucks her long brown hair back behind her ear and looks down, one arm resting underneath her large, full breasts, holding her stomach tight with nerves, "It's insane to be leaving all of this behind. I know we've been working on it, but I didn't ever expect the underground to be done, I don't know."

"You shouldn't stress yourself out so much, Sid," I say, taking in careful breaths, "I told you I'd wake you up when we were ready."

She shakes her head, "I can't sleep through any of this, and half the time I'm either barfing up my guts or trying **not **to barf up my guts. I can't think about it."

"Me neither," I agree, feeling my chest swell in fear, "We're lucky though. Not many other people are going to have the chance we do."

Sidney runs her pale right hand over the folds of her gray sweats, getting rid of the perspiration, "Inez, do you think it's right that we just... Just go underground, when other people out there are going to be suffering?"

"Not right," I say, shaking my head and then looking at her, "Necessary."

She frowns and starts to cover her mouth like she's going to be sick, "I can't even think about it."

"Then don't."

"Inez–"

"Dammit, Sid," I say finally, eyebrows coming down, "Stop stressing yourself out. You already _know _how I feel about this, don't fucking make me say it twice."

She nods, eyes tearing up.

I reach out and brush my hand against her cheek, "You're stressing yourself. And little Ovid can only take so much as well. The last thing we want is an early pregnancy."

"You're right," She agrees, closing her eyes.

"Things aren't stopping with the company either. You can keep working on the light rays, we've got plenty of supplies and resources to hold us off. We're not getting paid, but I don't think money really matters anymore."

"I don't mind," She says, smiling, "It gives me something to do, to take my mind off of what's happening."

I nod in agreement, _that it does_.

**Oeric Comes to Adler, Oeric's Pov**.

"_I escaped, and a couple of others. We all sort of ended up here, one way or another. Nor took us in, helped get us fixed up, gave us food."_

I calm my breathing as I stalk quietly through the forest, feet falling upon firm ground as I grip the gun between my fingers. I observe the trees, the silence, and it does little to comfort me.

Instead, I find the lack of wood creatures to be the most foreboding, to be recognized as a sense of danger.

"Don't move," I hear the voice behind me and feel the cold metal barrel of a gun rest at my temple.

"I'm not," I say, dropping my weapon and standing firm.

_It's not a Peacekeeper. So that's something to take comfort in, and I do. _I turn slowly, so as not to startle him.

Even though he's about two heads shorter, he's a sight to grimace at. One blinking blue eye stares up at me and the other has a patch covering it, sprouting a fresh scar from the fabric. His short brown hair is sloshed up at first, and then dripping like lazy grass, wet with sweat. Over his mouth is a filthy white bandana, stained with bright red, wet blood.

He's young. He could easily be my son. But he stands with his knees bent, ready to fight me if he has to.

"What's your name, kid?" I ask, smiling.

"Nor," He says and I look at his hands. The one holding the mini-cannon is wrapped around the knuckles with a second bandana, wet with blood where each bone would be. The right hand is shaking and balled into a fist at his side.

"Do you need a place to stay?" He questions me, voice rough but nervous.

I nod, "I could use one."

"You won't cause trouble?"

I shake my head, "Not if I can help it, kiddo. I'm not here to hurt anyone."

Even though he looks like he's ready to pass out at any moment, he stands up with his back straight and drops the gun, "Alright, I'll take you to Adler."

**Kurgan Finds Love, Ben's Pov.**

"_To me, things are form, things should be structured. But that's why I am where I am, that's why I stand for military, not public relations. I don't communicate properly."_

"_And surprisingly, you're in a relationship, and I'm not."_

"You're a soldier?" The young girl asks, her eyes a light with lust as she traces her fingers over Kurgan's chest and I see the impartial man stiffen, not use to a woman's touch.

I watch his eyes half-lid themselves, his hands grip the side of his pants nervously as he smiles down at her.

"Yes, I am," He responds, turning to me for help.

I raise my hands, "Go on."

"You're not wearing a suit," The girl observes, "How about I see you in it?"

"Alright," He agrees and I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

She turns her back to him, all smiles, and says before she goes: "Well I'll see you at five, tonight, at the David Diner? Does that sound alright?"

Kurgan breathes a sigh of '_yes_' as she leaves and then he turns to me, "I can't believe that just happened."

I smile, watching the young girl take one glance back before disappearing around the corner, "Well, it just did. You should probably get a shower though, and wash that uniform."

Kurgan gasps as I slap his back, "Right, I'll uh... I'll go do that."

_It's two, he might be ready in time._

I watch him walk away as well, leaving me out on the training grounds alone and I take a seat, staring up at the dark roof of Adler above.

_If he can do it, find love, then so can I._

_I just have to move on first._

**Ben Becomes Adler Leader, Kurgan's Pov**.

"_I'm Ben Rowley. None of us are entirely in charge of Adler, but I would be the person you came to if you had a serious problem; like talking to my board, scheduling a meeting of sorts, trying to convince us to go upland, that kind of thing."_

He doesn't even want it. I know he doesn't, _but he takes it anyways._

I watch as he nervously fingers the pin on his left breast, keeping his eyes forward as we gather around for the ceremony to start.

He swallows and makes his way to the front, turning to stare around at the people in the room.

Ben clears his throat and begins his speech.

He wasn't suppose to be capable of handling the hardships that await us, not at this age, but it's being forced upon his shoulders prematurely. I'm sure though, that he's going to handle it better than most expect him to. _Better than that, even._

I watch his eyes glass over as he cries in front of Adler, in front of the various soldiers, botanists, doctors, marketers, mothers and children. As he exposes a side of him that only family is allowed to see.

_He's going to be a great leader._

And his father, Ovid Inez Rowley, may have been a good man, but Ben will certainly do him justice in the following years.

**Kurgan first learns of Peeta Mellark, Kurgan's Pov**.

"_**Peeta Mellark**__. That's what I'd heard a woman say, she'd come from District 5, if you believe it. You were the only name she would mention besides Katniss, of course. I already knew (Katniss). But when she mentioned you were in the games with Katniss Everdeen... Well, that caught my attention."_

"_The girl in question had arrived to us nearly two months after your first games. And the first thing that really got to me about you, was how kind they would say you were. Charming, gentle, but strong and smart. You fought for your love, and you succeeded, twice. I knew games only left one alive, of course, but the thought that you had made it through with her, for her, that caught me."_

"Do we even want to know why they've been pouring in so much lately, more than before?"

I roll my eyes at Ben, "Of course we do. And I know most of it."

"Right," He interrupts, putting down his drink, "The Hunger Game."

"Games," I correct.

"Hunger Games," Ben smiles and nods in agreement, "You think it's got them running scared?"

I frown, giving it a thought, "Maybe. But if they've been having it for the past seventy-four years I can't imagine why they'd start panicking now."

Ben shrugs, "This... Cat-Knit girl, she survived the latest one, right?"

"Katniss Everdeen," I correct him again and he grins, I swear he's messing up the names on purpose, "Yeah, she tried to eat some berries, to upstage the Capitol."

"Berries?" Ben raised a brow, "I hadn't heard that."

I stand up from my desk and grab my data-pad, "Yeah well, you need to get out more."

"Kurgan–"

"Don't 'Oliver' me, Ben," I wave him off, "I know the kid's suffering, but he's turning you into a recluse."

Ben gives me this stern look and I leave him in the room alone, making distance from the main office, up into the apartments of Adler.

In the distance, I can see Nor and his new group helping a panicking woman into a chair in the welcoming center. Her brown eyes move wildly around, arms shaking, long red hair and sharp features highlighted by her pale skin.

She looks up as I join them and Nor turns to smile, "Kurgan."

I nod to him, "What District?"

"Five," He says as he stands up straight, "I can't really get through to her, she just keeps saying that she had to escape."

I sit by the red-haired woman, "Go on up top, Nor. I'll take her from here."

He nods and grabs his gun up, leaving back to the exit.

"Miss," I say, watching as she curls into herself, pulling deep gaps of breath, "Look, your safe. Alright? You need to calm down so that I can ask you a few questions."

She shakes her head, "My... My daughter..."

"Daughter?" I ask, noting the tears on her cheeks, "Is she up top? Did you get separated?"

"No, no, she's not here, she's not... She's not anywhere, anymore."

She's dead.

I nod and rub her back, "Alright, alright. Can you tell me anything more?"

"She died," The woman sobs, trying to sit up, casting nervous eyes at me, "She died in the games."

"The Seventy-Fourth games?" I ask and she whispers confirmation.

"Even if she had lived–she probably would've... I mean, he would've killed her. To protect Katniss..."

I watch as she finally calms down, wiping her face and holding her chest tight, "A boy, in the games?"

"Yes."

"But he's dead now too, so–"

She looks at me, but shakes her head.

"The Victor," I say as she continues shaking her head, "The Victor of the games was Katniss Everdeen."

"No," She whispers, looking down at her hands, "Victors."

"But there's only ever one Victor–"

She interrupts me with his name: "Peeta Mellark."

I close my mouth, staring at her in confusion as she smiles sadly, shaking her head again.

"He would've done anything to protect her, I know."

"Protect your daughter?" I ask, slightly confused by her rambling.

She shakes her head again, "Katniss. He would've killed anyone, he would've, if it came to it."

**The Virus Strikes, Nor's Pov.**

"_Some muttation that the Capitol released, that's our best guess. He tore most of the men into pieces. That was the first search team that we had, the original group. Nor was sort of new to it at that point. And the muttation came out of no where, started tearing people up."_

I sit with my back against a tree, calmly cleaning out the barrel of my gun, the greased bandana in my hands as I look around the forest ahead.

Misha stands beside me, bored and sleepy as he peers out, watching my back. His thick, old jacket stretches down to his knees as he tilts his head and listens, hands gripping into fists before he looks at his feet, "Are you done yet?"

"Almost," I say, wheedling out the inside of the barrel one more time before reloading the gun, "Where's Karn?"

Misha turns to his left, my right, "Peeing."

"Still?" I ask.

He nods, "He's been drinking lots of water today."

I throw him a side smile and stand back up straight, "I'm good now, lets start moving back before it gets too dark to see in front of our faces."

Karn joins us then, his worn yellow jacket with it's sleeves rolled up as he puts a finger to his lips.

Misha and I stop and raise our brows as we notice a thin, long gash on his forearm. The panicked look on his face suddenly makes sense.

"I went up ahead," He says as he grabs our wrists and begins pulling us towards Hangington, his lower lip shaking, "There's something out there, in the trees."

"And your arm?" I ask.

He shrugs, "It swiped me with it's tail. It's not human, it's some sort of reptile, I think."

Misha whispers hoarsely, "Like an Alligator?"

Karn shakes his head, "No. It stands up on two feet, it has razor sharp teeth and a sort of short snout compared to an Alligator. It's a predator. It's probably hunting us right now."

Were about 5 yards away from the second team and I can see Nina peering out of a bundle of bushes ahead, waving to me when the creature strikes.

Misha is yanked from my side suddenly and the creature, jaws clamped on his shoulder as it throws him to the ground, is both large and violent looking.

"Misha!" I turn my gun on it and run bullets along it's backside._ Impenetrable._

Both Yon and Dayo join us then, their own guns trying to break through the creatures amazingly stubborn hide.

Misha screams in agony as it bares down on him again.

Quaid is there then, slamming into it's side and throwing it off balance. The large creature lets Misha go then, turning to the paler man and roaring loudly at him.

Quaid doesn't hesitate, roaring back and dragging the long metal claw of his right arm along the thing's side and taking off through the trees, away from Hangington, taking it away from home base.

"Follow him," Yon orders, "Where's Leven and Mava?"

"Here," the two girls say together, joining us with their panicked expressions, guns held tight at the ready.

Yon nods to them and motions to me, "Go ahead, around. Nina?"

"Yeah?" She asks, long brown hair catching in the wind as she takes his side, but he shakes his head.

"Go home, warn them about the attack. And," He looks sickly grave and lowers his voice, "Ask them to start preparing the hospital staff for possible patients."

Nina's eyes widen, watering, but she nods, "Alright."

"The rest of us," Yon looks around, "We'll follow the scout."

I move on ahead then, leaving them behind the bushes and following the broken branches and ruffled up dirt from a distance.

I hear Quaid's angry roar up ahead and see just enough of him to know he's going to need back-up.

Sweat pours from his short, pitch black hair, over biceps, down his pecks, mixed in the long, thin trails of blood. _His blood._ I see his blue eyes catch the sun and force myself to turn away, to meet back with the group.

That's when the creature gets it's jaws on him and I hear, more than see, it's teeth run through his throat and shoulder.

**Oliver's Depression, in Ben's Pov**.

"_Oliver hasn't always been a stable father with them, even on his best days Ben's caught him asleep on the living room floor while his daughter nibbles on his toes, one boy making a mess in the kitchen, the other asleep on his chest."_

"_Ben kind of adopted them. He just moved in one day, started taking care of them. It keeps Ben out of any other relationship though, but he doesn't mind. The four of them are a family now."_

I walk in through the front door, fresh groceries in my arms and I set them out on the counter, "Oliver?" I ask, but stop when I see him asleep on the living room floor.

His first born by two minutes lays asleep on his chest, the baby's mouth open and a thick line of drool dripping down onto his father's shirt.

Oliver is out completely, hand resting on the babies bottom as his daughter sits at his feet, quietly sucking on his largest toe.

The third though, is out of sight, and I look around.

There's a giggle from below me and I open the cabinet under the sink to find the child sitting there playing with a dish sponge.

"Will," I grab it from him and scoop him out from his hiding spot.

I walk with the child, setting him on the living room floor and crouching down beside his sleeping father, gently nudging his shoulder until he wakes.

Bright blue eyes, dulled now, open and blink up at me sleepily.

"Ben?" He asks in confusion.

"You fell asleep."

He sits up then, nearly hitting our heads together in the process and carries the three children to their crib to lull them to sleep.

I leave him to it, walking into the kitchen and putting the groceries away for him.

In his absence, I wash the dirty dishes and warm three bottles of breast milk, carrying them into the bedroom and handing them over to the miserable man.

Oliver sets up the three and then his hands rest on the top of the crib.

From behind him, I can instantly recognize the dropping head, the shaking shoulders, and I want to comfort him in some way, but I wait for him to come to me first.

It's the loud, sudden sob that startles me as he finally can't keep quiet, sinking down to his knees as he cries.

"I can't do this anymore, Ben," He rasps weakly, "I can't do this."

"You have to," I tell him as he shakes his head, "Oliver, you have to. For your children."

"What are they worth if she's not here to be with them," He mutters redundantly and turns his head from me when I crouch down to rest my hand on his shoulder.

"I'll help you."

"You'll leave," He argues.

I turn his face to me and stare firmly into his eyes, "I won't. I promise."

**Ben Meets Peeta and Katniss, in Ben's Pov**.

"–We're not the enemy. Not at all," I hear Kurgan's voice from the distance as I make my way towards the group, "We just want your voice to help convince the rest of the board–"

"You couldn't do that already on your own?" I hear the young man ask, see his strong, sure shoulders set as he stares, sharp, smart blue eyes sizing up Kurgan, "Who's in charge here?"

"I am," I say, startling them and the young man looks at me, his blond hair in short soft curls that help immortalize his youth.

The young, beautiful woman at her side rests her small hand on her stomach as she stares curiously my way, her long brown hair pulled back in a braid, bangs hanging over her face, gray eyes blinking in surprised observation.

"Kurgan," I start, dropping my hand down on the other man's shoulder, "This wasn't necessary, not at all. You should've just taken them to breakfast."

"I didn't want the board to approach him all at once," Kurgan tries to cover his mistake, "That's too much for him to take on alone. Ten people asking him to do this, I wanted to give him some sort of heads up, at least. Who knows if I'd have gotten a second chance."

I nod slowly and raise a brow, "Neither of us have been properly introduced. Kurgan Naisa, here, is my second in command. And I'm Ben Rowley," I motion to myself, hand resting on my stomach, "None of us are entirely in charge of Adler, but I would be the person you came to if you had a serious problem; like talking to my board, scheduling a meeting of sorts, trying to convince us to go upland, that kind of thing."

"Adler?" He asks, trying the word on.

"Surely the underground has a name," I laugh, "Adler was the company, people couldn't seem to get past their history. So we named it that. I guess it fit at the time, though times have changed."

"So the board leads together?" Peeta asks, eyes staring into mine and I see his recognition, his settle, his understanding of my self.

* * *

><p><strong>Option C, Chapter 7+8 in Gale's Pov.<strong>

Katniss runs her hand through her hair and sits down on the bed.

"Are you sure you're alright?" I ask, reaching out to touch her shoulder, "Katniss–"

"I'm fine," She says, looking down at her hands, "I'm just confused."

"About what now?"

She shakes her head, "Just things that Peeta was saying–"

"Katniss," I try to keep the anger from getting out in my voice, "Stop worrying about Peeta, for one second."

She looks up to me, eyes blinking back tears, "I feel like there's more between us, Gale. I just can't shake it. You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would," I say, brushing the tear from her cheek, "But there's not."

I lean in, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her close, pressing my lips to hers and tilting my head.

Her hands rest on my chest as we break away for air and she looks down at her dress, "I guess this is–"

I kiss her again, climbing over her and wrapping her arms around my neck.

She breathes beneath me, chest heaving for air as her gloves hands grip my shoulders and she turns her head, "Gale..."

"Catnip," I confirm, pulling back to look at her.

She smiles at the nickname, cheeks and neck flushing, "I love you."

"I love you too," I answer, feeling my chest tighten, "I've loved you for a long time."

Her smile widens and she leans in, her eyes lowering to my lips before she stills, "When did forever start?"

"What?" I ask, feeling the anger fill me.

She looks confused then and sits up, "I'm sorry, I don't–"

I pull back, climbing off the bed and moving to the dresser, "Forget it."

"Peeta–" She stops and I stare into the mirror, seeing her hand go to her mouth, "Gale... I'm sorry."

"Forget it, Katniss," I say, removing my shirt and pants to prepare for the night, "Let's just go to sleep and forget about this, alright?"

"Gale!" She gasps in shock and I turn around.

"What?" I look around but there's nothing, and she's staring at me with wide eyes, "What is it, Katniss?"

Her head tilts and she blinks, "You... you have both legs."

My chest tightens and I clench my jaw together, nodding and she shakes her head.

"I don't..."

"Peeta," I say finally, walking over to her, "Peeta is the one missing the leg."

She reaches out to touch my knee and I can't help pulling away before her fingers brush the skin.

"Don't, alright," I sit down, "Let's just sleep."

"No," She says, standing up and looking at me, "I'm confused, Gale. First there's the pearl, the memories of waking up in his arms, and–"

"Katniss," I interrupt her, standing up and grabbing her shoulders, "Shut up about the guy, he's _nothing_."

Her wide eyes stare into mine, shocked and I pull away.

"I'm... I'm sorry," I say, turning away from her, "Just forget it, okay? What Snow's done to you... These aren't real memories, Katniss."

"Then what are they?"

I shake my head.

"What are they, Gale? They're something," She accuses and we both go silent, "You're just not going to talk about it."

I fight back the growl, turning my body from her and sighing, "Let's just sleep, Katniss."

"No," She shakes her head, "You may not give me answers I want, but I'll make **him**. At least he wants to, now."

The door closes loudly and I stand up, slamming my fist into the bedside table.

I crawl into bed, struggling to sleep for a while before I realize that it's useless. She's still not back. So I get up, dress, and go after her.

The halls are darker as everyone rushes to get to their quarters and I wonder the hallways before I find Peeta's bedroom.

I'm about to knock before I hear the sounds coming from behind the door, Katniss's voice, moaning and gasping. My stomach twists sickly and I hear her mutter 'please,' gasping his name and I turn away.

My body locks up, teeth nearly grinding as I turn to leave, and then the lights in the entire hallway around me go out.

_Lights out, doors are locked_. And I'm out here in the hallway, unable to see a foot in front of me, listening to my wife of about three hours, committing adultery.

They finally go silent and then I hear Peeta saying: _"I love you, Katniss. I love you so, so much."_

"_I love you too," _Katniss responds, so softly I can barely hear her, _"I thought that was going to be... More painful, I guess."_

I close my eyes shut, trying to not let it bother me.

"_Nothing should be painful with me, Katniss."_

"_I feel safe with you," _She says, and I grit my teeth,_ "I can't explain it, but I have this feeling with you, that's unlike anything else. I tried to hate you, but I don't think that's possible."_

"_I can relate. But I gave up on trying, if you couldn't tell."_

I leave the door, wondering the hallways aimlessly until I finally sit down somewhere, curling up and allowing the restless sleep to grip me.

I wake up the moment the lights come on, standing stiffly and finding my way back to my room. I sit near the head of the bed, unbuttoning my shirt and climbing under the covers. I'm about to go to sleep when I hear the door open, see Katniss come in and close the door.

She smiles when she sees me, "Hey, handsome."

I swallow, keeping anything I can back from her as she giggles and walks over to me. _Giggles, the Katniss I know would never giggle._

She removes the dress carefully and grabs one of my shirts, pulling it on before sinking into the bed and shifting up next to me, her arms wrapping over my shoulders, "I hope I wasn't gone too long."

_Gone too long?_

I raise my brow at her.

"I just had to pee," She says, scrunching up her nose and my stomach clenches.

"How did the talk with Peeta go?" I ask, unable to stop myself.

She tilts her head, looking confused, "Who?"

"Peeta," I say, "You went to see him, I know you did."

"Peeta Mellark? The boy that saved me from Snow?" She asks and I nod, "Gale, I haven't ever really talked to Peeta Mellark, you know that."

* * *

><p><strong>Prim patches Peeta up in an embarrassing spot<strong>.

_This was clearly just fer fun, it might never EXIST in the TBBA / PWPP / ISDP / ERCE universe. Just a request. I would imagine Prim is a bit older, of COURSE. But imagine it however you like._

I watch her nervously, her small finger holding the curved needle as she carefully runs it through my skin. My stomach twists in disagreement but I fight to keep it from my face.

She's so concentrated, her eyebrows narrowed and lower lip bitten between her teeth as she worries it. Hair pulled back from her face, gentle blond curls dressing her temples and gracing her round cheeks with their ends.

I've seen her do this to people, even had her stitch me up once before, but this is different.

That wound wasn't located on my stomach, and had the bangs blossoming from her forehead constantly caressing my nipple.

She smiles as I hitch a breath when she tightens up the last stitch, "You keep this up and you'll have more scars than I do eyelashes." Despite her controlled voice, I can see her blushing cheeks flush even more pink with every word.

"Work in progress," I say as she ties up the knot, as I watch her small, thin fingers grab up the scissors and cut the string and she stands back up.

Her blue eyes stare into mine, large and amused, but also nervous, "You're good to go," She says and my eyes fall to her pink lips, "but take some rest for yourself, don't strain those stitch–"

I lean down, hand reaching up to brush the curls from her left cheek, to cup it and turn her mouth to meet mine.

She stills, breath pulling in just before the kiss and I hear her set the scissors on the counter, feel her right hand run up my forearm as she melts against me.

* * *

><p><strong>Original Excerpts<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Excerpt from Original Story, Gammoth:<strong>

Some times... Things move too fast. I didn't even get to really say goodbye to my friends. And the phone call with Meishan was devastating.

"_You're leaving!" She shouted into the mic, "What's that suppose to mean?"_

"_Mom and dad got divorced," I try to explain._

"_And what's __**that **__mean!"_

She's right. Not many students know what divorce is. It just doesn't happen. I only know about it because mom's mentioned it before.

Divorce is when two people that have vowed they love each other, signed papers, paid money, and maybe moved in together and shared a life, leave each other.

I know that a long time ago, it was a common thing, divorce.

Even little kids knew what it was.

But since then, things have changed. And divorce is of little or no importance. And most people first learn about it when they get married. They have to read all of these papers and sign off that they understand that marriage is as permanent as it gets, and that divorce is serious, but possible.

I don't understand it, honestly. Why marry someone you're going to divorce? Why does it even exist?

When I asked mother about it, she just said: "It was mostly so that people know they can get out of situations they don't want to be in, like your father and I."

Because divorce isn't common, cheating isn't either.

Cheating is another word most people don't know. The idea of being intimate with someone that's not your girlfriend, spouse, or partner. Now _that's _serious.

The only kind of cheating I knew for a long time, and most people only know, is when you copy other people's work, or find someway to manipulate something to means that aren't fair. That's cheating too, but most people don't know that you can kiss someone intimately that's not your partner.

I understand why they don't educate you on this, too. Because I'm sure there's people out there that'd like the thrill or whatever. But the thought of swapping spit to someone that wasn't your first kiss or your partner... Gross.

And it might be catching. And hurtful. Humans are far too emotional and sensitive to deal with knowledge of something like cheating.

It sucks that my father had to catch it.

"Have you ever thought that I don't want to make more friends?" I ask.

Mom looks pointedly at me, "You don't really have a choice. Gammath is huge, and people are going to want to talk to you whether–"

"Gammath?" I ask, stomach shrinking down into my lap.

She nods. And that's the biggest insult, "Gammath, yes."

The biggest school in the world, and I'm being transferred to it. Well, if this isn't a tragedy.

"So what's my name being changed to?"

* * *

><p><strong>Only Skin Excerpt from Chapter 6:<strong>

"Justin," Tess starts to say, eyebrows knitting in anger, and he smiles at her.

"It's alright, Tess," He says softly in a voice of understanding, "I didn't intend for it to be mean. I know Calvin is vulnerable. You didn't take it that way, did you, Calvin?"

I shake my head numbly, feeling my chest clench, my organs tightening, my palms sweating.

Tess rolls her eyes, giving me a worried look before she hands the cashier her bank card.

"See?" Justin motions to me with an open palm, broad stupid grin plastered on his face, "It doesn't bother him at all. Nothing phases this guy."

I don't respond back as he takes the third cart and joins us, leaving the store together.

"After nine years, Tess, do you really think he's going to get any better at this point?" Justin asks as we walk towards my car, "Nice," He pauses, staring at the back of it, "Who's is this? It's not your's."

"It's Calvin's," Tess says and I can hear the annoyance in her voice.

Justin whistles and looks at me, then joins Tess as they start to put away the groceries, leaving me to fill the backseat with my own cart.

"You shouldn't have to deal with him anymore, Tess," Justin says, ignoring me as obviously and carelessly as possible, "I mean, he's old enough to do it on his own. And Caless?"

I lean into the car, pulling out the napkins from my back pocket in time to catch the sneezes wrecking my chest. I straighten up, unnoticed, it seems.

Tess stops, pulling up and glaring at Justin more pointedly, "Justin–"

"Justess," He corrects, smiling. _Clueless at her anger._

"Justess," She looks at me carefully, motioning to him with her head as if to say 'are you gonna do something about this?'.

"See? It even sounds right when you say it," Justin says as he flips his blond hair and moves his arms animatedly, "You should just dump him already and be with me. I'd give you all of the attention you deserve."

"_You should dump him already, Tess," he says to her and grabs her arm, "I'm actually someone worth your time."_

"_Just dump him, Tess," Justin says, walking beside us._

"_The idiot can't even respond to what I'm saying."_

"_Dump him."_

"_So, have you dumped him yet?" He asks expectantly._

"_Tell me you've moved on already, Tess? You're wasting your time."_

"_You should dump him already."_

I close the back door once it's seats are full and join them at the back, loading the last of the groceries so that they're packed snugly in the trunk.

Justin turns to Tess once it's done and rests his hand on her shoulder, "I've asked you a million times already."

_He has._

"When are you gonna give up on this garbage, and accept a real man?" He asks, and his lines begin blurring together as the anger rushing in starts to hit me, my hands balling up, my arms shaking and I'm seeing red.

"Come on, Tess. I don't want to keep asking you the same thing, over and over again. I know it's getting old."

I grab his hand from her left biceps in my fist and turn him to look into **my **eyes for once, "You're right, it is," I say, squeezing his arm, "And it's gonna stop now."

His eyes widen for a moment before glaring and smiling up at me, "Is that right?"

"That's right," I confirm as I let go, reaching up and shoving him out of my face, staring firmly back at him, "You need to back off of her now, before I decide to do something more about it... She's–"

"She's what?" He asks, crossing his arms.

"She's my girlfriend," I say, voice as still as a corpse, struggling to keep my hands at my sides as he starts to laugh.

"_Your _girl? Since when?" He chuckles out, not blinking, not faltering as he slaps my shoulder with the back of his hand, "Please. She doesn't even–"

I can't stop myself from balling up my fist tight and throwing it forward, slamming the knuckles so hard into his nose that I feel it crack, hear the loud pop as it breaks and blood explodes from before my hand.

He gasps and staggers back, shouting in pain and grasping his nose as the red seeps between his fingers, spilling over his front, "What the hell!"

"Exactly!" I shout back, the voice ripping up my throat, uncomfortably loud and strenuous for what treatment my vocal chords are use to. I sling my hand down to get the blood off of me, hear it splatter on the ground by my feet, "You should leave, before I break your neck as well, _**Justess**_."

His eyes widen and then he marches off, leaving the emptied carts with us.

My heart finally calms down, slowing to a regular beat as I watch him storm back into the Publix without a look back at us.

Tess, standing against the side of the car still, her hands tucked into the pockets of my white jacket, smiles at me sheepishly, "You feel better now?"

"I do, actually," I confirm, "That guy's a dick."

"Right, right," She says as she smiles weakly, watching me close, eyes wondering over my body, "Are you okay?"

"On a scale of one to ten?" I ask, moving to lean against the back of my car, "And with fifteen being a normal day... I'm probably thirty–forty-ish."

"Calvin–"

I raise my hand up to calm her, but her eyes widen, "I'm fine, really, Tess."

"There's blood all over your fist."

I shrug, "And it's not mine. For once."

She moves in close, raising her/my jacket and wiping my hand clean with the bottom left corner, adding more blood to it's color, "I didn't interrupt because I kept in mind what you said. About needing to go through things, otherwise what's the point. Right? That's what you wanted?"

"Yeah."

* * *

><p><strong>Previews<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Option H Preview:<strong>

"I volunteer!" Katniss shouts, "I volunteer as Tribute!"

_No_! The shout catches in my throat and I'm gasping for air.

I'm watching the display on stage but I can't hear anything. It's like I've gone deaf. First, Effie is saying something, but I just stare at Katniss. Her beautiful blue dress, her wide, glassy gray eyes, her long black braided hair.

I see her bangs shake as Primrose fights behind her. Gale Hawthorne is pulling Prim back and then Katniss is walking up. _No_, I try to shout again, but it's just another gasp.

Haymitch is falling from the stage. Sound is returning back to my ears as Effie Trinket runs over to draw the boy's name. I stare at Katniss in shock as my fear, my heart hammering in my chest as I struggle to calm down.

"Gale Hawthorne!"

If I couldn't have guessed who it would've been, then I don't know a thing.

Gale, Katniss's best friend, quite possibly her boyfriend, walks up the stage as Katniss looks panicked.

I don't know what to do, or say. I don't know what I'm suppose to be thinking, but the two most ill-desired people now stand up on their deathbeds.

My stomach lurches as they look at each other unsurely and are taken from my sight.

But I can't leave this like it is. I'll have to see her again.

* * *

><p><strong>Option K Preview:<strong>

I ease up, letting out a shaky breath as the girl, that's not Katniss, walks up onto the stage and stays silent.

_Not Katniss. Now I can relax._

Effie runs over to draw the boy's name. And when she says it, I feel like maybe I've relaxed too soon.

"Peeta Mellark!"

My mind goes cold immediately and my feet root themselves into the ground as I stare up at her, as I stare at the tiny slip of paper that has my name on it. _My name._

_My name, of all people, it's me._

Effie searches the crowd of us boys, "Peeta Mellark?" She asks and I finally have to un-root myself.

* * *

><p><strong>Option L Preview:<strong>

"Katniss," I say softly.

Her face flushes just slightly and she looks around, "Yes?"

"I'm umm, I'm Peeta–"

"Mellark," she says, and my heart stops, "I know."

_She knows my name._

Katniss smiles nervously and stares up at me, "I know who you are, you work at the Bakery."

"I do," I say numbly.

"My sister likes the cakes."

My stomach flips and I nod, feeling nervous tears well up but I blink them away, "Yeah, she does. I mean, yeah... I make them."

Katniss tilts her head, "You make them?"

"The designs," I explain further, "On the cakes, I paint them."

"Oh," Katniss nods in understanding, "They're beautiful."

* * *

><p><strong>Neece and Titus Story Preview:<strong>

**Excerpt from the Prologue, this is in Neece's Pov**.

I open the letter, holding it carefully as the wind threatens to blow it away, and then I take up pace again.

It's from my father, who probably tried to reach me back at work before I left, and it says that I have a visitor at the house, a guest from the Capitol. It also says that no one else will be by until the 'guest' is done doing business. Which means that my father thinks it's safer to return to our old home with the girls.

There's only one person that would bother him that much._ President Snow._

I crumple the letter in my fist and step quickly on over the wet stone walk, damp leaves squelching under my feet and I look around to the worn, rusted fences of the closed stores, the flickering street lights glowing hauntingly in the distance as the storm rages above head.

_What could he possibly want with me?_

_He's done with me._

_I won the games, he couldn't possibly ask for more, could he?_

I open the door of my house in the Victors Circle and step inside the front hallway, setting the axe up by the door and taking off my shoes before they can leave tracks.

The Head Peacekeeper of our district greets me first, holding out his white, gloved hand.

"Gransfors," He shakes mine firmly and stares into my eyes, "You have a visitor here. You know that, right?"

"I do," I answer back, gripping his fingers tight before letting go and making my way past him, "So nice to see that he's already made himself comfortable in my home."

There are four other Peacekeepers in my house, stationed inside of the living room as they look around and talk casually amongst themselves, eyes watching me close as I step into the room with them and shake my jacket from my shoulders.

"Follow me, Neece Gransfors," One of them says and walks me down my own hallway, leading me into my own study, and then he has the nerve to close my door once I'm inside.

I stare at the empty man before me, across the room, sitting comfortably at my desk with his fingers folded together in wait.

I notice first that things have been moved.

From the bookshelf, he's taken down my old, well-worn copy of 'Riddle The Two's' and has it open on my desk.

**Excerpt from Chapter 1 (Titus's Pov).**

Neece, shaking on his hands and knees, doesn't even bother to look up at me and I fight the urge again to help him up or care for him.

"I..." I start to say, taking a nervous breath as I watch him struggle, "Please, get up. I know you're in a lot of pain, but if you don't get up, it'll seem odd, if I don't... You know, punish you."

He looks up at me angrily, balling his fists, but he doesn't make a move to stand still.

"Neece, please," I say and his eyes stop in surprise again, since I didn't call him by his slave name, I assume, "I don't want to use this collar, just get up."

He stands finally, half a head taller than me now that he's at his full height. He could flatten me without even thinking about it. _What seventeen year old is this tall? Did his parents feed him giant pills growing up?_

I smile as confidently as possible and straighten my shoulders, "Let's just make it home, alright?"

Neece nods, fists at his sides as I turn my back to him.

"Come, Hoyt," I demand loudly and we begin.

_Hoyt, no ones reused that name, ever. Snow must have really hated him when he signed Neece up under this market._

Hoyt being the name of an old Avox, about thirty years ago that became famous over night. It was widespread news how the owner of him would rape and torture the Avox, pack salt under the bandages of his wounds and then bound him up so he couldn't move, for days.

The poor Avox ended up dying in the end, his body put up on display outside of the owner's home with a large spike of thick wood running through him from one end to the other.

Most Avoxes are named after previous ones. None of them keep their real names and the first ones were mostly renamed some slave term, or slang word for something else. 'Ubrue' for 'worthless', 'Ockot' for 'naked one', 'Essen' for 'bring me my food'.

Hoyt means 'no honor, no pride'. Or bug, creature, mutt, and lastly 'spineless'.

_Come, spineless._

**Excerpt from Chapter 2 (Titus's Pov)**.

"I hope everyone's ready this morning for the interviews of the tributes today, Caesar Flickerman has already arrived, walking down to the front bar and ordering his usual.

I get up when the coffee maker beeps and move over to take down a new mug, filling it carefully.

"I see Haymitch Abernathy is already hard at work," Shellin jokes and I can imagine the haggard Victor of District 12 sitting miserably at the bar as he tosses back glass after glass of fire shots and green marys.

The coffee mug rests warmly in my hands as I sit down in the living room and kick off my boots.

"He must not be looking forward to another year in the games," Shellin says, digging through her notes, "His two tributes, Esiel Rosenberg and Marcellus Irving are about as capable as the regular District Twelve representatives."

From upstairs, I hear the bedroom door close and footsteps down the hall, down the stairs, and Neece takes a seat by me.

I don't bother looking at him as Shellin moves on to the next room.

"Looks like Finnick Odair is up early too, as usual," She says, moving back to him and he turns to the camera, smiling and waving, "The two from his district this year are promising. Lottie Veva and Isaac Morris."

We watch the interviews together until noon when there's a soft thump at the door and I stand up, walking across the way to pick up the package.

I set it on the counter as I begin preparing lunch, heating up a roll of wings and pouring a thin glass of caffeine.

Neece joins me in the kitchen, sitting at the table and watching as I separate the wings and hand him over his share. He takes it without 'thanks' and begins eating at once.

As I chew, I open the package and begin looking over the script.

**Excerpt from Chapter 3 (Titus's Pov).**

"She's a wreck," I say, nearly forgetting who I'm talking to, but Neece just rolls his eyes.

It isn't a 'who wouldn't be' roll though, it's more of the 'yeah right' kind of look that I've seen him give me a few times.

"Do you know something?" I ask, raising my brow at him.

He makes a motion with his fingers that I recognize at once as 'writing material' and I pull a pad of paper from the coffee table's drawer and the pen from my pocket, handing it over to him.

'_She's faking it.'_

I look up to him with wide eyes, "Is she?"

'_Johanna's ruthless. She's going to win. Trust me.'_

I smile wide, "I hope so."

He nods and puts the paper down as we continue to watch the interviews in silence.

The one that bothers me most though is this little girl from District 12, Esiel Rosenberg. She's got this really short cut hair, close to her scalp and pitch black. Her big green eyes and tiny little body as she talks to Caesar Flickerman. She's barely four feet tall, nearly skin and bones, but adorable and harmless.

It's obvious that Neece is just as bothered by her as I am, teeth biting the side of his lip as he watches her.

The boy from 12, that came on before her, is nearly the exact opposite. He's almost seven feet tall with nearly platinum blond hair and brown eyes. His left arm is easily the size of the girl's body alone and his torso is probably her full arm span.

I can only hope that he'll protect that poor little girl.

**Excerpt from Chapter 4 (Titus's Pov).**

"I've seen a few of your earlier pieces," She says, pulling out her own script, "Little Hat, Bubbly, and that one series short, Luka."

"Luka?" I ask in surprise, "I didn't realize many even knew that thing existed. It hardly got out of it's shell."

"Shame too, it was amazing," Palagia turns to me, smirking, "You can act. If Sol knew that you could perform him under a table you might manage to make him sweat on stage. I guess he's already seeing some of that now."

I feel my cheeks flush pink, "I'm not that good."

"Yes you are," She argues, "You're a natural on the stage. It's nice that this series is a one-take scene. It'll showcase your capabilities even more than you think."

I shake my head, "It was a lucky break."

"It was, but that doesn't mean that you're any less amazing at what you do," She says, using her fingernail to fix the top left of her eyelashes and then she stands, long, lithe body underneath a simple dress, "How about you take me to dinner?"

I circle one of the lines of my script, writing out it's exchange and nodding, "Alright, where to?"

She smiles, "I have the perfect place."

"This is what you had in mind?" I ask as she moves us backwards, yanking the tie loose on my collar and turning us around, "Palagia."

She breathes against my mouth, tongue darting out to circle my lips as she lays down, pulling me on top of her, "This is what I have in mind every time I see you."

Her hands brush the back of my hair, fingernails digging into my neck. Her hands unbutton my shirt, my pants, yanking them down only a few inches as she pulls up her short skirt.

I hold myself up, dominating over her as her hands run up my chest.

"You're soft," She says against my neck, "And hard," She giggles, arching her hips against my erection.

I swallow, pulling back to look into her eyes, "Who wouldn't be? You're beautiful."

She smiles, "Why do gay men have to be the sweetest things?"

* * *

><p><strong>Extra<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Special unnoticed thing about all of the chapters in ISDP.<strong>

A and P have chapter titles with one werd.

B has chapter titles with two werds.

C has chapter titles with three werds.

D has chapter titles with four werds.

* * *

><p><strong>Final Hunger Games Fic Installment's Title.<strong>

Endings of Reasons, Centers of Excuses

* * *

><p><strong>Preview of Chapter 1, Option C.<strong>

_Right through the eye._

I'm still not nearly as good as Katniss, of course, but I'm definitely getting better. I'm able to practice in the company of others though, so that's an improvement.

I pull the arrow out and allow my shoulders to shake nervously at last, heart hammering away in my chest as I bend down, cover the dog in a sheet of plastic and heave him up onto my shoulder, flour bag style, as I carry him back to town.

Prim's already standing there at the gate, hands grasping onto it as she's been waiting for me, teeth worrying on her bottom lip, but her eyes light up the moment I'm in sight, and she barrels over in excitement.

"You're not hurt, right?" She asks, eyes moving over my body.

"I'm fine," I assure.

Prim looks to the dog and grins, "**He's** not. Good thing you got him today, I don't think the garden can take much more of his pilfering."

"Looking forward to classes tomorrow?" I ask as we walk.

"Are _you_?" Prim responds sarcastically.

"Not really," I admit, letting out a heavy breath of air as the dog begins settling into dead weight on my shoulder, "I gotta say, the break was nice."

* * *

><p><strong>Preview of Chapter 1, Option D.<strong>

When I open my eyes, it isn't to a doctor or a surgeon looking over me and checking my vitals, like I expect. _It isn't to Katniss, either._

Above, the band of light along the frame of the roof, so signature with Adler, does something I've never seen it do before.

_It blinks._

I watch it, eyes clearing as I stare, before it finally goes out completely.

The band of light never goes off though, it dims at night, sure, but I've never actually seen it go off, and it's normally very subtle.

I sit up stiffly, bones popping and muscles groaning against the action. I feel a sudden, sharp sting in my arm and look down to see that there's a needle stabbed into the bicep of my right arm, empty and hanging freely while pinching the skin.

I rip it out, looking around the darkened room, the upturned tables in the other cells. The bodies still, blood over their fronts and on the floors below them, where they'd coughed up before they'd all died from the virus.

Their machines are off and there's no medical staff.

I stop looking around when my eyes glance down at my side as I see the two men huddled in the cell I'm in, curled together in the closest corner nearby.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

I will be posting up some small things during the hiatus, most of you won't care, but those that will, look forward to them, both on here and on tumblr, and I'll see you all on the 30th fer the rest of Option A and P. Love you all!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	64. Chapter 15 OPTA: Wear

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hello my Onlies!

Geez, just barely got this thing up today. Mostly because of all of the editing and extending I had to do (and I lost my list of song notes fer A and C, I kinda pulled this chapter's song out of my ass ). And I'm in a lot of _pain, so much that I can barely breathe.._. But I'll live. FERGIVE ME IF THE END SOUNDS RUSHED! The pain just got werse as I edited.

Option P is also up already, so go ahead and enjoy that.

I'm not gonna blather here now, I don't have the energy. Too much pain to talk at the moment and prattle on so uh... I love you all, thanks fer sticking around and wearing through the long hiatus!

_But I'm __**back**__._

Also, a reference: I couldn't really imagine Peeta calling her 'Greasy Sae', so I had him have a more... Unique thought process. He wasn't exactly raised in the Seam, was he?

Enjoy, and may the odds be ever in yer faver!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Anonymous Review Responses:<strong>

**Romance Reader (Chapter 60 **"I try to respond to them, I really do! I try to make sure I cover EVERYONE. I wish I could respond at once, but FF is not up to speed, it IS as fast as I can make it, tho. I can't believe you had to wait a month fer this response tho. the stitching scene was so fun to write, I'm tempted to make more of them, just fer fun. XP And I used Depeche Mode's Somebody To Love already, that's an amazing song btw, but I have so many more AMAZING ones planned fer Preeta that fit just as well. Thanks fer suggesting it tho!"

**Romance Reader (Chapter 61:** "Aww, I'm glad you liked it! I wanted it to be really special and VERY Peeta."

**Romance Reader (Chapter 62"**Hahaaa, I'm glad you liked them! XP Me? Rock Star? Nice. The shower one was rly sweet to write and the Peeta jerking off one was awesome. Another reader, Jenna, requested the opposite, and it's on it's way soon. I may continue the role reversal one, one day. Pretta is just adorable, they're TOO cute to write some times. The rain scene MIGHT end up in C, I REALLY was getting into it."

**Dolly (Chapter 60:** "Lol, I'll always continue, no worries! Option C is very different. But I'm glad that everyone REALLY seems to like Dm it's the most original of the 5."

**Not Gonna Lie (Chapter 12 **"I'm sure you'll manage like everyone else is. But if you have such a problem with it, wait until I have the full thing up on my site, it will be easier to sort through then. But who knows when that will be."

**Lea (Chapter 6:** "I've started that up, sort of, on my site, Deviant Art, AO3, and Tumblr. Look there."

**Lea (Chapter 60 **"I'm ALWAYS taking submissions fer characters, of course! Yers will be in it, promise!"

**DooWops (Chapter 60:** "That's fine, welcome to the site! Accounts are needed sometimes, but I accept anonymous reviews, because I LOVE everyone! So no worries! Having an account would just make my response to you happen FASTER. I'm glad you like how I write, it's very flattering. I'm pretty aware that younger audience are reading my fanfic, I'm sure I was reading things I shouldn't have when I was yer age. XP You are so very VERY flattering, oh my gods. You've got me blushing over here! I am werking on a Trilogy at the moment, so don't worry, my name will certainly be out there in time! And I will try to stay true to my Onlies!"

**DooWops (Chapter 23 **"Aww, I'm sorry I made you cry! B is a VERY painful option to read."

**Doo Wops (Chapter 58:** "I gods, I'm sorry. I feel like I just murdered yer poor heart! /hug I'm sorry, please fergive me! Option B was pretty much doomed from the start, we saw it coming. I'm glad you enjoyed it and are respectful to understand where I was coming from with it! Please continue reviewing, I love you!"

**Seansy (Chapter 59 **"Good thing this is a fanfic... If you don't like C, you don't have to read it. There IS an alternative version coming up in Book 4. And I would NEVER let Gale be happy, that's fer _sure_. Moving on... I like yer comment on sexual tension that SuCo ignores with young boys. This is very true, but it's also true about MANY other authors. A lot of them do it. I... **Don't**. And I never will. That shit is there. I wish people wouldn't ignore such GREAT plot devices of the REAL world. It's not like I'm _making _it up. XP I'm glad yer liking the other options tho, especially D!"

**Katina Maroon (Chapter 58:** "You stand alone."

**lmc123 (Chapter 60 **"I love the readers that OD on me over the course of a few days, that shit is AMAZING! Especially when you read all the options and DON'T complain that there are too many. That I love. XP So, yer welcome! And yer also welcome fer all of the sex! Shameless sex scenes, that's me. My HG SHOULD be a book! Seriously. That would be frakking awesome. I'm glad you sympathize and allow me my hiatus, it was needed. XP But I'm back and stronger than ever! Hope to see you around more, Onlie! Yer welcome fer everything!"

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Regrets collect like old friends,

Here to relive your darkest moments.

I can see no way, I can see no way.

And all of the ghouls come out to play.

And every demon wants his pound of flesh,

But I like to keep some things to myself.

I'd like to keep my issues strong,

It's always darkest before the dawn.

And I've been a fool and I've been blind.

I can never leave the past behind.

I can see no way, I can see no way.

I'm always dragging that horse around,

And our love is pastured such a mournful sound,

Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground.

'Cuz I like to keep my issues strong.

But it's always darkest before the dawn.

And given half the chance, would I take any of it back?

It's a final mess but it's left me so empty.

It's always darkest before the dawn.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15 Wear<strong>

* * *

><p>Katniss comes outside later, when the sun's reached bending point, with her bow gripped tight in her left fist and a look of pure determination set firm on her face.<p>

I've reached the front of the house with the primroses now, just shy of the steps when she walks down them and looks me over curiously, eyes lingering on the pool of sweat wetting the chest of my shirt and then flicking back up to me.

"You've been out here all day?" She asks in surprise, her mouth curving up into a smile.

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the forearm of my shirt and nod, "Yeah, got nothing better to do, do I?"

Katniss smiles wider and it touches her eyes. She reaches up and brushes the wet slop of curled, sticky bangs from my forehead, "And I thought you were soaked _before_."

I shrug as my stomach flutters and then motion to the bow, "Where are you going?"

"Hunting," She says, teeth baring when she grins, the excitement spreading out clearly on her face, "Want to come?"

I look back on the last primrose I've gathered, "Just one more here, and then we'll go?"

She nods and takes a seat on the steps, resting her bow in her hands and watching me patiently, "Alright," She agrees.

I turn back to digging into the ground, sweat beading down from my nose as I break up more dirt, "How do you feel?" I ask, lifting up a shovel full, "I mean, how have you been?"

"Okay, I guess," She says, her voice slightly wavering despite herself, "I mean, what could you expect, right?"

"Right," I agree, picking up the bush and settling it down in the wet dirt, "It's hard sometimes, you know; to actually think it might be over at last?"

Katniss hums her agreement softly, watching my backside, "How about you? How's your... Your mind?"

My eyes meet hers over my shoulder and I shake my head, "It comes and it goes. I get these sharp, vivid flashes every now and then, less often more and more, but... Sometimes they hit really hard and it takes my breath away, you know?"

She nods and bows her head, "I'm sorry, Peeta–"

"Don't apologize," I stop her at once before she can get far into it, "Katniss, you don't have anything to be sorry for, you understand? We were both thrown under extraordinary circumstances in the war. The... the things that we've done these past couple years can't be held against us, even by ourselves."

Her eyes widen and she nods, staring at me as I fold the dirt over the primrose, tucking it in tight enough.

"Let me shower real quick," I say, standing back up right and rolling my shoulders, "I reek and I've been at this all day. Then we'll go though, alright?"

She grins and stands up, walking with me to my house, following inside, and she takes a seat at the counter as I climb the stairs.

My body groans, not in a worn, tired sort of way, but more satisfied and comfortable. It's been a while since I've been able to get a proper work out, like lifting the large bags of flour at the bakery. My body is appreciating the familiarity.

I can't promise it everyday, but it's nice.

The spray of cool water hits me and it's like all of my muscles in my body tighten and relax together, drinking in the moment of shock.

I wash thoroughly, scrubbing along the expanse of my chest, my arms and stomach, down the artificial leg first, and then my real one, balancing carefully on it.

The memory flashes before my vision suddenly, the anger flaring up, the feeling of betrayal, but I tighten it down, even as it forces me to stop and breathe, blinking and folding in on myself. But it's over fast enough and I turn off the water with shaking hands, grabbing the towel and walking out into my bedroom for lighter air.

I'm in the middle of drying my stomach and thighs when I hear the soft, familiar intake of breath and look up to see her standing at the door, cheeks flush and she turns away.

"Katniss?" I ask, toweling off the rest of the way and sitting down on the bed to get my underwear and pants on.

She stands there, her back to me as I finish dressing. I can tell, just from the position of her shoulders, that she's completely mortified.

But she's seen all of me at this point, so there's nothing to really be ashamed of. And it never bothered me, even before I'd seen just as much of her. It's just flesh, and we've certainly shared more intimate things than this.

I stand, walking over and touching her shoulders, "It's not the first time you've seen me naked, Katniss."

"I know," She says, voice soft as her eyes meet mine, "I didn't mean to walk in, I'm sorry, I thought... Well, that you might've been dressed already."

"I take forever getting dressed," I joke, "You know that."

She blushes deeper and nods, reaching up to touch my towel-dried, still slightly wet hair, "I wasn't thinking."

"I don't mind you looking," I admit, just like I had the first time, "You've seen worse."

Katniss's gray eyes flicker down to my waist and she smiles, nodding, "I have."

I take her hand in mine, kissing the fingers and staring at her as I do so, "We can go now, I'm clean."

* * *

><p>Once we get back, I start up a few loafs of bread in the oven and take a seat as they bake, looking out the window, across the road to Katniss's house, eyes on the soft primrose bushes as the wind gently blows over them.<p>

It's the only reason I know to expect Mrs. Sae as she walks passed the window and knocks on my door.

I get up and answer, welcoming her in, "Good evening."

She smiles and walks forward, a large pot in her hands and I take it up, "Oh, thank you."

"Anytime," I offer and set the warmed stew on the counter, "How are you doing?"

Mrs. Sae makes her way over, taking a seat with me and setting her hands in front of her, "Better, I guess. You were with Katniss?"

"I was," I confirm.

"She's a mess," Sae says, shaking her head sadly, long gray hair tied back from her face, "She's lucky she has you."

I nod, allowing that thought in._ I'm lucky I have her still. I'm lucky she's alive._

Mrs. Sae reaches out to touch my hand, staring sincerely into my eyes as she speaks, "You're going to join us for dinner, aren't you?"

"I am," I confirm, turning back to the stove as it beeps.

I pull the oven open as I put mitts on and the wave of heat from inside prickles my burns, blowing my hair out of my eyes as I lift the trays of bread, setting them on the counter to cool down.

Sae stands up with her pot in hand, motioning to me, "Bring some of that bread, it'll go great with what I've got."

I nod, lifting one of the loafs into arm and walking out of the door with her, locking it because of habit, and trekking the short way to Katniss's house.

Sae barges in without knocking, turning back and motioning me inside, "She'll be up in her room, I suppose."

I set the bread on the counter and shrug off my shoes, stomping up the stairs as quietly as possible, fake leg heavier than the other as I wonder to the closed door of her bedroom and knock twice, "Katniss?"

She doesn't answer, but I open it anyways and walk in.

My eyes stop on the orange cat perched at the foot of her bed, tail waving over the soft comforter, staring at a sleeping Katniss before he looks back to me and meows in appreciation.

"Hey there, Buttercup," I say, moving in and joining him, scooping the wounded cat into my arms and sitting where he's been. He's beaten down and there are scratch marks littered over his body, his back leg twitches before resting in my lap and I scratch lightly behind the ear that isn't wounded.

He meows again, purring and backing up into the tips of my fingers, turning to lick at them, and opening his mouth to nibble playfully.

"Peeta," Katniss breathes and I turn to her, see her sleeping face as her mouths parts and she sighs. My chest warms, tightening in that old, familiar way.

I set Buttercup on the floor, "If you go down to Mrs. Sae, she'll have food for you," I offer and his ears perk, he turns to the door. "Go on, I'll be right behind you with Katniss, in a minute."

He leaves, ears up completely now and he nearly bounces, though a bit lighter on the back leg, body sliding through the crack I've left in the door.

I stand and move to Katniss's side, brush her hair from her face and run my thumb along the line of her cheekbone.

Her eyes open suddenly and she turns to look up at me, smiling and leaning into my hand before breathing deep, "You smell like bread."

I grin, nodding, "There's some downstairs for you; five grain, oven warm and just made."

"Like the first time," She says before thinking, then she blushes and sits up, "I'm sorry, I must've fallen asleep."

I'm tempted to add that these aren't burnt, but I let her keep the slip up for herself.

"That's alright," I respond, staring as she looks around, eyes searching, "Buttercup is downstairs getting food from Mrs. Sae. You hungry?"

"Starving," She answers as her hand folds over her stomach, as it growls in agreement.

I stand; as much as I want to kiss her or hug her tight, I refrain and hold my hand out in offering instead, "Come on, let's go eat."

Katniss takes it, eyes staring into mine as she stands and follows me out into the hallway, down the stairs and she moans in appreciation when the smell of bread and stew becomes stronger, "Greasy Sae?" She questions, peering into the kitchen.

"Yes, dear?"

"I caught a bit of squirrel and rabbit, if you want to use it for tomorrow."

Mrs. Sae smiles as she pours us each a bowl and hands over our spoons, "Alright. I fed your cat."

"Thank you," Katniss says, smiling and taking up one of the chunks of bread, as steam wafts from the top.

"He looks in bad shape."

"He is," She agrees, eyes turning to me as we sit in the livingroom, "I'll fix him up in the morning."

We eat together in the comfortable silence, talking afterwards as Buttercup wonders in and takes refuge on my lap, purring and asking for attention.

Katniss falls asleep on the couch and I help see Mrs. Sae out the door.

Buttercup follows me around as I clean up, putting the stew into the fridge and the bread in the side cupboard before washing the dirtied dishes.

I lift Katniss into my arms, careful not to wake her as I carry her upstairs, tuck her into the bed with Buttercup resting by her pillow and I lock up the house, returning to my own, like any gentleman would.

* * *

><p>The next morning, I wake up and stretch, rolling off the side of my bed and dressing before the suns even up.<p>

I stagger downstairs, heavy with sleep, yawning and scratching my stomach as I start up another tray of bread in the oven and lay out on the couch, switching the screen on to listen to the morning's news.

The reports of a few wild fires in District 7 spreading out of control, the body count finally being announced at nearly seven thousand and slowly climbing still, but expected to stop soon.

There's the creation of a memorial for tributes over the past seventy-five years being broad-casted, showing it's slow construction. I recognize the mentioning of both Thresh and Rue, then Finnick, and Chaff. And I remember each one of them in turn, seeing them, being around them. I'd never talked to Rue personally, but I remember watching the replay of Katniss and her, Katniss singing the sweet lullaby to her as she died.

The news continues though, delayed food supplies are finally expected to arrive in the even numbered districts over the course of the next week, teams being dispatched soon to help maintain security and safety.

The beeper on the oven goes off and a I stand to pull the bread out, setting it on the counter as there sounds a knock on the door.

Mrs. Sae welcomes herself in this time, smiling wide at me, "You'll join us for breakfast?"

I nod, "Sure. Is Katniss awake?"

"I haven't been over there yet, but she's probably been up for hours now, I imagine."

"Watched the news this morning, food supplies should be arriving soon."

Mrs. Sae just waves her hand and grins, "Please, we've got Katniss, we don't need anything other than that."

"No, not really," I agree, "But it'll be nice to have more vegetables."

She licks her lips and motions to me, "Come on, all this talk of food is making me hungry."

I lift the bread from the pan and join her, holding the door open as she walks out, patting my shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	65. Read this at ONCE

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Change of Fanfiction Dot Net<br>**

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><p><strong>PLEASE READ:<br>**

Some of you may already know, some may not. Whether you do or don't, allow me to explain.

Fanfiction dot net is about to do a SITE purge of ALL fanfics that have anything more than the SLIGHTEST sexy scene.

Which DEFINITELY includes my fic. You all KNOW how graphic this story is. SERIOUSLY. So they'll probably be taking my fic down. And you all might want to... Go somewhere else fer it.

I expected something like this to happen, honestly. I've been werking on a back up plan. It's upsetting to see them take this route again and I'm so furious I can barely breathe, just thinking about it.

So, you have these to choose from as our (most likely) inevitable home:

Tumblr

My Website

LiveJournal

AO3 aka ArchiveOfOurOwn

or

DeviantArt

ALL of these links can be found on MY site! At www . KaKaVegeGurl . com

Please. I love you all, and I don't want to lose a SINGLE one of you. E I want to finish this EPIC story. And we're not going to let them stop us.

Tumblr is probably the BEST established of the list so far, I'm nearly halfway through posting the second book and it's REALLY easy to navigate through options. So MAKE YER PICK.

I might not be posting here again, I don't know. This MIGHT all blow over, it did last time. I've been with the site fer AGES... So we'll have to see what happens.

Due to this problem, though, I will be going on hiatus once again, starting this very moment, to try and get everyone's comments and love and consideration saved, as well as this MONSTER of a fanfic itself.

I honestly don't see how they would MESS me. I'm the largest, longest running HG fic around... I get 30k views a month. They aren't going to mess me...

I'm sorry. I know this is upsetting, it's upsetting me too. I was eager to get back into posting, but I can't have these people trying to strip away something like this without trying to take some sort of stand.

**IF YOU WANT TO TRY AND DO SOMETHING TO STOP THIS**

**It might not make a lick of difference, but you can sign this petition to ease yer heart.**

**w w w . change petitions/fanfiction-net-stop-the-destruction-of-fanfiction-net**

****I will be RIGHT back here once I learn more, and if you want to talk to me about this or share yer concern, write it in a review, email me, whatever you need to do. I'm RIGHT here. And no matter what, I'm going to finish this fic as soon as this passes. You have my solemn word.

* * *

><p>~KKVG (A)<p> 


	66. New Author's Note

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision  
><strong>

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><p><strong>No, I'm not Dead<br>**

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><p><strong>Note:<br>**

Had a reader email me some concerns and I figured I'd give you all the insight, here you go:

**1) But i was wondering when your fourth book "Ending of Reasons, Centers of Excuses" was coming out and if it already has where I could find it?  
><strong>ERCE is NOT out yet, but it **will** be coming out once both Option A and Option P are complete. This will be VERY soon, considering that there are about 2 more chapters left of each! I have been on a hiatus though, and have been very, VERY busy sorting things out because I'm going back to Florida from my 6th month vacation in TWO weeks. If I had ERCE up anywhere else, people would know, I promise!

**2) Also you said on your fanfiction profile that your 3rd book wasnt quite finished, so is there more? And when will that come out and on which site?  
><strong>Read above. Also, as fer other sites, my fanfic is CURRENTLY being put up on 4 other sites! **AO3**, which will have a more edited and FULL version of the first book with grammar fixes. **Tumblr**, which already has the ENTIRE first book up. **Deviant Art**, which is almost done with the first book. And **my own site**, which will take longer than the rest, and probably go up LAST as a result.

**3)Also I was looking at your actual website to find Option P and I read all the chapters that are up, but I was wondering if that was it or theres more to come still? (I just thought it kinda ended a little abruptly haha).  
><strong>Option P is DEFINITELY not done. Otherwise I would've said something in the AN or ended with "Fin." Or something of the like. But TRUST me, darling, I would've let my readers know, I love you guys too much to just cut things off like that!

**Self Note:****  
><strong>I have not fergotten this fic, and I'm not quitting, the next chapter will be coming up VERY **VERY** soon. Fanfiction dot net has obviously gone under changes recently and I am sitting RIGHT HERE waiting and watching it ALL. We will get through this, and trust me, we'll be better fer the wait.

Also, during the wait, I've been writing a MASSIVE amount of my book, trying to get it closer to done before going back to FL, so I hope you all can understand. I love you guys!

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><p>~KKVG (A)<p> 


	67. Chapter 16 OPTA: Positioning

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

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><p><strong>Option A<strong>

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><p>By: KaKaVegeGurl<p>

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

So it's been about a century and a half since I updated. I apologize.

Things have been super busy on my side. We're about ten days from me returning back to FL and I've got to get a lot of stuff done in that time, like figuring out exactly where I'm going to be living. XP Which seems to be my mom's, UGH, yay.

The chaos of what's happened with Fanfiction dot net seems to be coming to a head. Things are changing around here a LOT.

Should this go DOWN at ANY point, look to my website fer news, ALWAYS look there first. Don't bother anywhere else.

I've missed you guys! Damn. Things have been rly busy on my part, but I AM here. And I will finish this fic, if it's the last fuckin' thing I do.

Option P is not up yet on the site, it most likely will be within the next 5 days or SO, I'm SUPER busy, but I wanted to get this out here to show you guys that the story goes on. I've got to start packing real soon and preparing rides and everything, but I will try to continue updates regularly.

Read on, and may the odds be ever in yer favor.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

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><p><strong>Anonymous Review Responses:<strong>

**DooWops (Chapter 64): **"Funny you should say that, ^^; Am hopefully back fer GOOD now. I have definitely missed my readers."

**Romance Reader (Chapter 65): **"Oh they've been taking down fics already, it's happening, just rly slowly, ^^; But I'm still here, fer now, and hopefully I'll stay that way, no promises tho, but my readers will be the FIRSTS to know."

**Miamc2282008 (Chapter 2):** "Aww, thank you! I always love NEW readers! Welcome to the fold!"

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><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

Now here we are,

So close yet so far.

Haven't I passed the test?

When will you realize,

Baby, I'm not like the rest?

Don't wanna break your heart,

Wanna give your heart a break.

I know you're scared, it's wrong,

Like you might make a mistake.

There's just one life to live,

And there's no time to wait, to waste.

So let me give your heart a break.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16 - Positioning<strong>

* * *

><p>Katniss's feeble attempt to keep us busy over time actually seems to work well for the both of us, despite my initial thoughts. Because, no matter how I put it, my mind still goes to darker places when I'm not busy helping the cleaning crews in town.<p>

Any time things are quiet for me, my mind starts mulling over again, reassessing facts, over-thinking anything and everything everyone around me has said before.

But Katniss's idea gives me a creative outlet to put all of my collected frustrations into and it gives her something to pour the broken heart she has into, that will have some lasting results once we're done with it.

It's nice to see her put the pain to use, even though I know it's hurting her over again, probably worse than the first time around. But bones that aren't set right to mend often need to be re-broken; So it makes sense in that way. This is just her own personal method.

She says the words out loud while she writes them into the memory book we're creating together, almost as if she's actually talking to me or asking if it sounds right, but I keep quiet, letting her get it out on her own.

In the time she spends weaving together paragraphs of victim lore, I've got my paints out on the side desk, fine-tipped pen sketching familiar faces of the ones I can remember best, pouring my own emotions into each and every one of them as I go.

It's my father's face that finally gets into me too much, as I'm remembering the end of the pen along the strong chisel of his jaw, filling his thick lashes with dark black ink and buttoning the inner-most dip in his left dimple, my entire arm begins to shake and I have to pull away before I ruin the light sketch.

It's shouldn't surprise me, the effect it's having, considering him after so much time has passed, and especially since the permanence should've won over **long **before now, but I didn't have time for it before.

I haven't grieved for him yet because everything's been so constant and rapid for the past series of months. I haven't even stopped to remember that he's gone for real, forever; That I won't see him again.

And after the Quarter Quell had been announced, I didn't even stop by to see him, or the rest of the family, not even once; I made distance from them instead. I stepped back from my family as we went into training and preparing for the games. The last time I'd even really seen any of them had been on that night.

_My father, closest to me by more than one standard, was sitting as still as a closed door. His face was blank and I could see the obvious fear as it washed over him._

_Mother, on the other hand, stood and turned the television off as my brothers both stopped teasing each other and looked at me in surprise._

_Ven was staring into my eyes even though I was looking away, "Pita bread?"_

_It was a nickname he used on me often, a joke between us all about my parents unusual naming habits. It was something that reminded me of how he use to climb in my crib with me whenever I got upset and started crying, or how he'd pushed me into an ant bed on an accident when I was four, and spent the next twenty minutes ripping all of my clothes off as they bit, spraying me down with the hose and even found them in my hair hours later. Or how he'd put the band aid on my knee after I'd fallen on the road outside our house._

_It was a nickname that said 'I'm sorry', 'I'm worried', 'you're my baby brother', 'I'm terrified', 'I want to help', and also... 'I don't know how to make this better'._

_I stood though, numbed and broken, horrified of how the day had just changed so drastically. I was ready to leave the house when my dad had grabbed my hand._

_"Peeta," he'd said, voice as worried as my brother's. It was... Not a tone I'd heard from him before, and it pulled something in me. Despite wanting to stay and be with him, and talk to them about it, I was afraid for them all._

_I was obviously cursed at that point. Unable to stop myself from becoming so incredibly unlucky. And at that rate, they were all bound to die as well. The best thing I could do was detach myself, before we all got hurt._

_I stepped back from them, my stomach felt too vulnerable, to squeamish to talk. I'd covered my mouth, mostly out of the fear of losing my dinner in the living room as I walked into the kitchen._

_Mom had followed me out into the hallway, trying to stop me as I pulled on my shoes._

_"Peeta," she reached out, but I left the house before any of them could really say anything more._

I'm so caught up in my tears and observing the image that Katniss's hand taking my shaking forearm nearly startles me halfway to death's door and I turn to see her wide, sad eyes staring up at me, concern painted clearly across her face.

The memorial book lays abandoned on the bed where she was laying beforehand, must've looked up and saw me losing it, and the blankets are dragged out in the direction she's standing behind me now, marking her beeline.

"Katniss," I say, blinking hard through the tears as they start to burn my vision.

She moves forward, pulling me into a hug and wrapping her arms firmly around my back. I feel her settle in at once, laying her cheek against my collar bone.

"I'm sorry," She whispers softly, hands smoothing over my shoulder blades.

"What for?"

Katniss breathes into me, silent for a moment, so I wait for her to catch back up, "I'd never given it much consideration, I guess. I never really thought of how you've lost him."

I nod, kissing the top of her head before admitting: "That makes two of us."

"But still," She argues slightly, "I should've. I know what it was like to lose my own. But I never even stopped to think of what you've lost. Because of me."

"Katniss," I lift her chin, "It's not your fault."

I know she doesn't believe me the moment she nods her head and I can't help frowning because she should know me better, enough to realize that I'd be able to catch her in the lie. I do, but I don't say anything about it.

Her guilt isn't going to just_ go away_, this will take some time, for the both of us.

* * *

><p>As the days progress, steadily filling the book of people, Annie comes to visit, stomach swollen as I help her from the train and walk with her back into town.<p>

It's clear to me at once that Finnick's death has been very hard on her. But how could it not? And now she has no one. No one to help her along, no one to care for her. The strain of being alone doesn't seem to bother her as much as just **not **having Finnick does though. That's something I can empathize with.

She rests her hand over the large belly, breathing carefully and calmly, smiling as we walk in silence, but I can tell she's grateful for the company.

Finally, she turns and asks: "How are things?" And then she tacks on, "–with Katniss?"

I raise a brow. Annie and I have never really talked much in the past, especially when I couldn't tell whether Katniss was a mutt or not. She's certainly seen me at my worst, and probably only has a _vague _idea of me at my best, so asking about Katniss is... I guess it's understandable. She actually **knows **Katniss.

"Vulnerable," I respond, honest, and unable to think of another way to describe her condition.

Annie nods, "Well, she's always been that way, it doesn't mean she isn't strong."

"That's right," I agree as we pass a group of field workers.

It's obvious at once that her and I don't know each other at **all**. If she knew me even slightly, she'd understand that I would be the _first _to insist on Katniss's clear strength and capabilities, no doubt. But even solid brick walls have their weak spots.

It makes me wonder why she isn't here to pick up the late Finnick Odair's widow, and I am. I don't even know her. It's not often strangers help each other out.

"It must be so hard for you, Peeta," Annie says suddenly, staring up at me with wide, sad, watering eyes.

I start to shake my head, but then have to ask, "What do you mean?"

She reaches out and takes my hand, "I know things have been bad for you, too. I know you have a hard time grasping onto reality. I know what that's like."

_I... I guess I had never thought of it that way._

"You have a hard time holding onto yourself, but you do it, for her, right?"

"Among other reasons, yes," I confirm, smiling slightly despite how surprised I am of her sympathies.

Annie nods, "I understand that too. Finnick was there for me in a time that no one else was. He was able to reach me in ways I could barely comprehend."

"Annie–"

"I'm fine," She says, smiling wider and rubbing her stomach, "I know you're worried, I can practically _hear _it. But I'm fine, thank you."

"I'm still sorry though," I add once she's gone silent again, "Finnick was a good man."

"He was," Annie confirms, "Are you two..." She looks back up at me, nervous all of a sudden, "You know, together now?"

I sigh, looking ahead and breathing through my nose as I swallow, "I don't know. Some times it seems like it. But I guess we've always been that way."

"Gale's not around to confuse her," Annie chimed in, "That must help some."

"Gale's not around to do anything," I respond, unable to stop myself, "I wouldn't even care if he was. She needs some kind of connection to the real world. I... I can't help thinking that she might still want _him_. That I'm just convenient, because I love her, and I'll do anything for her. And she knows that."

"That's not a bad thing."

"No," I agree, "It's not, but... When I was little, and I imagined being with her, it wasn't like this."

Annie nods, squeezing my hand, "Would you have it any other way?"

"I guess not," I chuckle, pulling her close as we walk, "That doesn't stop it from hurting, but you're right. I'd just like to know where we stand. Some times she's so... She seems like she wants more, like she wants us to be together, or like she _already _considers us together. Other times, it's as if she recoils and remembers that I'm second best or something."

"Don't say that," Annie argues, her eyebrows narrowing as she stops me, "Peeta."

I turn to her completely, "Annie."

She sighs, "Don't think like that, it's not true. It's clear how she feels, you just have to be patient with her."

"I am," I say, defending myself, "I'll wait forever if I have to, I don't mind. I'd just... Like to know."

We continue walking and the both of us are silent again, comfortably, but silent.

Annie waves to a few people of the district, hand going right back to her stomach each time, but she never lets up of the one laced in mine.

She finally turns to me once we're almost to the Victor's Village, "Just because Gale is gone, doesn't mean Katniss is settling with you, Peeta. It means that she's giving her feelings to a person who is more concerned about her. She might love you both, she might always love Gale as well, but you're the one that matters. Because you're with her now, and she needs you."

I'm practically speechless with the comment, so I just nod. It's nice to feel appreciated after everything, and I think it's what I need to hear.

Katniss and I don't really talk that often and, when we do, it's normally about our own sufferings and burdens. But Annie has given me enough reassurance to think my tactics through again.

Though I don't really know her, Annie has said enough to help me finally understand the kind of woman she is, just by the short walk and in-depth conversation that can only be created by two people that have more scars than wounds. She's a kind person, a gentle soul, someone that never meant to cause harm to anyone, yet she's become so broken beyond repair, like me.

I see why Finnick grew to love her, even stone-cold hearts can't help latching onto something with such pure intentions.

* * *

><p>Katniss sits across the table from me, carefully carving up her meat as she mixes it in with her side dishes.<p>

This is our first dinner alone.

Sae is back at the Capitol retrieving Haymitch, I imagine, and Annie decided to stay in for the night, but I guess she's giving us some space; Because we really don't get much of it.

Most of the time, we're writing and painting or hunting and baking, and we seem to separate during those things, even if we're in the same room together some times. We just enjoy each other's company, knowing that there's someone right there if we need them, and knowing that that person will do anything they can to help out.

And other than Annie and Sae at the moment, there's not much for company besides ourselves.

"They're still warm," Katniss says as she tears open one of the bread muffins and smiles weakly, meeting my eyes.

It's times like this when I realize that there's not much to actually talk about between us, but... When you think about it, our lives just got considerably more boring than they've ever been before.

"Thank you," She says suddenly and I look up, our eyes locking and I watch the small blush cover her pale cheeks, the light freckles flaring up as her fingers work the table cloth between them.

"For?" This is the second time she's surprised me by saying something that's... I guess I should say `expected`, even if not by me, but it's definitely appreciated.

Katniss doesn't look away though, as much as I expect her to, she stares firmly at me, eating carefully as she responds, "Do you really want a list? I mean... What in life _don't _I thank you for at this point?"

"Katniss–"

"Let me finish," She interrupts me softly, but sternly, and she sets down her fork, "Things have been... Uneasy between us. And I know that's my fault–"

"Katniss," I say again before I can stop myself and she raises a brow. I smile sheepishly, "Sorry, continue. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"I'm just tired of the unease between us. It's me, mostly," She corrects at the disapproving look from me, "But I want to fix it. It... It might not be an easy thing to do, but it's not like we don't have time."

"Right," I agree, finishing off my dinner.

She stands finally, gathering up our plates and emptying out cups before we wash the dishes together.

I'm drying my hands and am about to head out the door before she stops me, her thin fingers wrapping around my wrist as her storming eyes meet mine.

"Stay?" She offers, voice soft and nervous, "Please."

I take my jacket back off and follow her upstairs, shutting off the lights on the way through the empty house.

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><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review! Love you guys!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	68. I promise this is the last friggin AN

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Back to Florida<br>**

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><p><strong>Update:<br>**

Am back in FL only things seem to have... Soured, just by coming here. I have no space or time to do anything, so give me a bit, and I'll hopefully have some time to write. My sister was admitted into the hospital 2 months early, I'm worried as hell and I have no time to do anything, so please, bare with me.

~~KKVG (A)**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Note:<br>**

Hey there guys!

Just dropping in to let everyone know that I'm flying back to Florida in about 10 hours. I wasn't able to finish editing Option P to post on the website because things have been super busy. But I will have it up eventually.

I won't really have much internet in the next 6 or so days while settling back in with my mother, I think I can expect everyone to be up my ass the first week back.

I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm still here and, once I get settled back in, I'll make up fer all of this waiting you guys have had to endure. ^_~

Also, I get to go back to home to Will-bro-sis, who is 6 months preggers with TWINS!

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><p>~KKVG (A)<p> 


	69. Author's note and Prologue of AVOX

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Hiatus... AGAIN<br>**

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><p><strong>Note:<br>**

Alright guys,

Fer those of you that have been in here fer the long haul, you prolly understand and saw this happening miles ago.

My site is PFFT, so I'm moving EVERYTHING over to Tumblr. The rest of the fic will continue to be posted up here on FF WHEN I start posting again, but fer now, I need to collect this shit and move it. Which means that P will not be posted until everything is moved to Tumblr.

I hate to do this over and over and over again, but a lot of shit in my life is kinda spiraling atm. Until further notice, I'll be on Hiatus. If you even care in the slightest, go to my Tumblr and join up there. It's **KaKaVegeGurl dot tumblr dot com**. If you want to know what's happening, message me on there, but I'm srsly busy moving shit, so I can't rly go into it in LENGTH. And I don't want to broadcast it all here. **YOU DON'T NEED AN ACCOUNT! YOU CAN MESSAGE ME ANONYMOUSLY!**

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><p><strong>TO TIDE YOU OVER. I GIVE YOU THIS:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<br>Welcome readers!**  
><strong>No warnings are really needed yet, I guess. But expect the fic to be graphic and mature, rated M fer a reason. Also, if yer homophobic, you should probably leave. The first reason why being that I don't want you here, and the second being that this fic will eventually lead to a gay relationship between two men.<strong>  
><strong>Which means buttsex will happen. And it won't be glossed over. I know some people are ignorant and think all gay men have no dicks and no sex drive... But it's gonna happen. So turn away now or ferever hold yer peace.<strong>  
><strong>There will also be straight sex as well. So expect that. I'm not biased.<strong>  
><strong>If yer still here and maybe even MORE eager than before, enjoy, and may the odds be ever in yer favor!<strong>

**~KaKaVegeGurl (A)**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

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><p>Holding the sturdy, bloodied sword in my shaking hands as I hide back behind the mossy boulder, I lay in wait for him. Warm beads of sweat trickle down my temple as I take in air through my nostrils and rest my eyes on the empty, eerie forest before me.<br>My arms shiver uncontrollably, keeping the blade from sight as I hold the shoulder of my shirt against the gaping wound underneath, feeling it wet over time.  
>The ground at my feet is covered with fresh, warm blood and torn up grass, disturbed earth and the little shattered pieces of a glass bowl; evidence of the struggle before. The dead body of the third finalist lays exposed and broken not three feet from me, her eyes wide open in shock, a large hole torn into her collar, down her throat and into her chest.<br>I wipe my sweating palms on my thin black shirt and take up the sword again as I hear him suddenly panting, breathing louder than me, but coming in fast. His heavy, quick footsteps sound from the other side of the large rock.  
>As far as he knows, one of us is dead. But he doesn't know which. He can't possibly think it's her, but on the off chance that he does, catching him now will be the easiest move.<br>I turn just as he reaches me and I swing out the sword with my best arm; to stop him in the sprint.  
>The sharp blade goes right through his neck without missing a beat, his lower body flying forward from his momentum and his head rolls back on the ground near me, eyes still blinking.<br>The loud cannon roars through the forest and I drop the weapon at once, walking away from the bodies until the hovercrafts come in and pick them up.  
>It's over.<br>The sixty-ninth games are over and I'm still alive. I'm the victor.  
>I didn't doubt it much, of course, but it's comforting to still be standing at the end, instead of being proven wrong.<p>

* * *

><p>"Now, Neece," Caesar Flickerman starts, folding his hands over his lap and staring at me with wide, happy eyes, his outfit of canary yellow contrasting against the purple couch he's sitting on, "Of the twenty four tributes in that arena, you killed... Fifteen of them."<br>I nod and his grin broadens.  
>"I can't say that we've seen something like that, before," He admits, raising his brows, "Yet you only scored a three in your tryouts and... Well, you were humble and clumsy in your interview. Do you think that's what gave you such an advantage in the games?"<br>I remember back to the cornucopia, standing on the platform and grabbing up the first guy, breaking his neck and then bolting for the nearest sword, swiping out to the Career coming in at me.  
>I shrug, trying my best to seem amused, "I just wanted to live through it. The strategy didn't matter anyways when the blood bath started. They figured me out pretty quickly."<br>"That they did," Caesar laughs and sits back, "They did, my boy. But it didn't help them either. Why, I've never seen Careers get picked off so quickly before. My, my."  
>My mind flashes to the first staged ambush in the arena, taking out both of the tributes of District 1 within moments of each other. The girl, her blue eyes staring up at me in shock as she falls down clutching her stomach and coughing blood onto my sleeve.<br>Caesar just shakes his head and shifts in his seat, "Now that you've won, what will you be doing back at home?"  
>"Moving on, I guess," I shrug, "There's not much more beyond that, is there?"<p>

* * *

><p>The slosh of mud and gravel soaks into my boots as I make my way from the front logging camp of District 7, it's welcome sign swinging in the wet wind, worn down and aged, the tree-green paint chipping off over the words 'Becker's and Tennant's'.<br>I watch the leaves tumble with each other over the walkway as I carry the heavy axe on my shoulder and pass quickly by the gallows.  
>"Gransfors!" I hear a sharp, almost smug voice from behind me, but I ignore her, "Hey! You fat fuck, wait up!"<br>That gets me to stop walking and I stand still as she reaches me.  
>She holds out a folded piece of paper and tucks her long bangs back out of her face, "I was suppose to give this to you."<br>I take the paper, staring at her as she looks nervously away.  
>"Mason?"<br>She rolls her eyes, "Whatever, it's the truth."  
>She's not going to apologize for being rude and insulting me about my weight, no matter how violent I probably look swinging the heavy, worn, sharp axe at my side.<br>Her eyes suddenly flicker back to me before she turns away, "Just let me know how it goes, alright?"  
>"Right," I agree as she starts walking back up to the camp, the heavy bundle of keys jangling on her hips, her sleeves rolled back to sit on top of her shoulders.<br>I open the letter, holding it carefully as the wind threatens to blow it away, and then I take up pace again.  
>It's from my father, who probably tried to reach me back at work before I left, and it says that I have a visitor at the house, a guest from the Capitol. It also says that no one else will be by until the 'guest' is done doing business. Which means that my father thinks it's safer to return to our old home with the girls.<br>There's only one person that would bother him that much. President Snow.  
>I crumple the letter in my fist and step quickly on over the wet stone walk, damp leaves squelching under my feet and I look around to the worn, rusted fences of the closed stores, the flickering street lights glowing hauntingly in the distance as the storm rages above head.<br>What could he possibly want with me?  
>He's done with me.<br>I won the games, he couldn't ask for more, could he?  
>I open the door of my house in the Victors Circle and step inside the front hallway, setting the axe up by the door and taking off my shoes before they can leave tracks.<br>The Head Peacekeeper of our district greets me first, holding out his white, gloved hand.  
>"Gransfors," He shakes mine firmly and stares into my eyes, "You have a visitor here. You know that, right?"<br>"I do," I answer back, gripping his fingers tight before letting go and making my way past him, "So nice to see that he's already made himself comfortable in my home."  
>There are four other Peacekeepers inside, stationed inside of the living room as they look around and talk casually amongst themselves, eyes watching me close as I step into the room with them and shake my jacket from my shoulders.<br>"Follow me, Neece Gransfors," One of them says and walks me down my own hallway, leading me into my own study, and then he has the nerve to close my door once I'm inside.  
>I stare at the empty man before me, across the room, sitting comfortably at my desk with his fingers folded together in wait.<br>I notice first that things have been moved.  
>From the bookshelf, he's taken down my old, well-worn copy of 'Riddle The Two's' and has it open on my desk.<br>Also, from the bookshelf, he's taken three of them and set them on their backs, stacking upwards. 'Garden', 'Me I Am', and 'Paint Brush'. They're three books I've grown up with. The only three in the entire room that I'd had before I turned twelve.  
>He's also put my chair in front of me, and is currently sitting in the guest one, at my desk.<br>"Snow," I say, giving him the best sneer I can.  
>He smiles coldly and motions to the chair before him, "Please, have a seat."<br>"I'd rather not," I respond, straightening up and keeping close to the door instead of moving more into the room, "What do you want?"  
>He wants me to accept the offered chair. Probably because he knows that I already know that it's actually mine and he wants to see if I'll really be bold enough to do so. I'm more bold not to, though.<br>"So rude–"  
>"Rude?" I ask before he can speak anymore, "You've come into my house and set up Peacekeepers. You've even chased my family out. But yet you expect me to offer my hospitality to you like some welcomed guest? After what you've done? You're an invader."<br>Snow closes his mouth and stares at me, dark eyes flickering angrily.  
>"You're a monster, Snow, an interloper in my home," I hiss between my teeth and look around, taking in the awful scent of roses in the room, "And you reek of it. What do you want? What can you possibly want from me now?"<br>Snow stands and smirks at me then, holding my copy of 'Riddle The Two's' between his fingers, "Want, from you? Neece, I own you. You're my Victor. Now that you've won the games, I can do anything with you I want."  
>"That's not how it works," I shake my head, "I won, now you leave me alone."<br>"Not exactly," He says, picking up a cream colored folder and holding it out to me, "This is what's expected of you in the next games, look it over and read carefully."  
>I take the folder and stare down at the cover of it, 'Capitol Duties', 'Neece Gransfors'.<br>"Expected of me? In the next games?"  
>He nods, "It happens to all of them, I assure you. It's not like your special."<br>I hold the folder in both of my hands, and, before looking into it, I tear it straight down the middle and throw it back at him, "I'm not your slave, Snow. I'm not doing anything for you, you sick fuck. What do you think I am?"  
>But he just smiles and says: "Less than me."<br>I turn to the door and open it, walking out into the hall and stopping when I see the Peacekeeper standing there with his hand on his side pistol.  
>"You don't have anywhere to go, Neece," Snow says from behind me, "Really, just do what's expected and your–"<br>"And my what?" I ask as I turn to look at him again, "You'll let me live? You'll let me live if I sell myself to your rules, your expectations? I'm not like that, Snow. I'm not a sheep."  
>He walks past me then and smiles wide, "Alright, you give me no other choice."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Riddle the Twos (Excerpt from the end)<strong>

* * *

><p>He hovered over my face, fine scalpel held tight in his shaky fingers as he leaned over and sliced the skin of my mouth as if carving legs from the body of a turkey, spreading me wide so that all of me was exposed to him at long last.<br>I felt my vision drain away first as he took it from me, plucking each ball out from it's socket before he ripped the nose from my face, but only after I had caught the strong, distinct odor of gasoline as he sprayed it over me, causing my clothes to cling at my skin.  
>With my ears, I heard him flick the matches little rough, nubby head against the threading of his jeans, snapping it alight as he set me aflame, to burn the feeling, the touch, and anything else away.<br>Once the pain of that died, he finally removed my wounded, bleeding ears from the sides of my head.  
>Next, he carved out the flopping muscle of my tongue, stopping me from being able to spit words of shame at him anymore.<br>But it's now that I realize I can't hear his bitter laughter, his taunts and jeers as he pokes and prods what is left of my body. Though things have gone black, I relax into a sense of bliss. He has taken all these things from me, but they don't matter at all.  
>They're things he values–his looks, his ability to speak and smell, hear and see. But this joke is actually on him. And he doesn't even know it yet.<br>He can take and take from me all he wants, but he doesn't have what truly matters in my heart, and he never will.  
>Even if I can't touch or talk, I remember what they were like. I've got but two things that he will never know, not as well as I do, and those are the only things that I treasure.<br>He has only felt strength now, while tearing me down, and has only ever been happy as he cut my words from my lips.  
>But I have both of those in abundance, gathered over the course of my life. He has only just felt them for the day. And no matter what he does, he can't take that away.<p>

* * *

><p>Melanie tries to wriggle away from me as I hold her down and blow the loud raspberry out on her stomach.<br>"No, no," She gasps between giggles, grabbing my hair in her little fist and yanking to try and get free, "Stop it, Neece."  
>I take her up by her waist and turn her upside down, her long brown hair nearly reaching the floor as she stretches out and tries to grab a hold of something, "I won't stop just because you order me to, little one."<br>"Raah!" Her sister yells, grabbing the base of my back and starting to shimmy up me to try and free Melanie.  
>"Oh, and just what do you think you're doing?" I ask, turning back and wrapping my arm around her waist as well, yanking her from behind me and pulling her up onto my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.<br>"Let me go!" Trinity orders, kicking her feet against my left shoulder blade, "Let me go you big oaf."  
>"Big oaf?" I gasp, tucking Melanie under my foot to hold her down as I struggle with Trinity, "That's some insult, little one. It wounds me."<br>"Alright," Our mother says, coming in and putting her hands on her waist, "No more wrestling in the living room. Dinner is almost done. Neece, can you please get them dressed and cleaned for bed?"  
>I nod, grabbing up the both of them, carrying them on my shoulders and trudging carefully down the hall as they continue to kick and giggle, still trying to get free. Even though I'm sure, at this point, that they don't want to get down anyways.<br>Once I reach the bathroom, I set them down on their feet and they both take up bars of soap and begin washing up.  
>I pretend to watch intensely as they clean their palms, the area between their fingers, their arms, and then rinse them off in the sink.<br>"Neece," Melanie starts as I walk them into their bedroom and grab up their sleeping clothes, handing the purple set to her, and the pink to her sister, "If I eat all of my vegetables, can I sleep with you tonight?"  
>I raise my brow, "You've been doing good though, haven't you?"<br>"I have," She confirms.  
>"Then why sleep with me? We've been here for weeks–"<br>"I miss it though," Melanie says, looking down at her feet, "I miss sleeping with you."  
>In our old house, the three of us had to share a bed, it's been that way since they were born pretty much. I use to hold the two babies close when I was younger, keeping them in the middle of my bed.<br>And I'd wake to one of them, or more often both, screaming at the top of their lungs. I'd sit up with them late into the night as I warmed a couple bottles of milk.  
>Converting to such a large house so fast has been taxing on the little ones. They miss me. I can't help it either, I miss them just as much. But I'm not going to admit it out loud to them, I'd never live it down.<br>Trinity, the shy twin, speaks up then, "Me too. Please?"  
>How could I ever consider one without the other?<br>"Guys," I say, sitting down on Melanie's bed and they both give me a disapproving look, "Girls, come on. You have to get use to sleeping on your own, you can't keep coming in with me. You're growing up. Understand?"  
>"Please?" They both ask together, eyes wide and watering.<br>I give in at once, bones buckling at their puppy stares, "Alright, fine. But we can't do this all of the time, you two understand?"  
>They nod and both charge out of the room, running down the hall and climbing into their chairs at the kitchen table.<br>We sit together through dinner in an awkward, uncomfortable silence for a while before our mother mentions going out tomorrow to pick up a few pounds of meat up from the butchery for the next week.  
>"You not hungry, Neece?" My father asks suddenly, taking the opportunity of ruined silence at once.<br>I pick up my fork to show him that I am, but I decide to give him something else to think about as well, so that he doesn't conclude that I'm being down and depressed again, "It's just the Snow thing," I offer and he nods, "I can't stop thinking that he's still not done with me."  
>"He's probably not," My father flicks through his book as he eats, eyes skimming some of the pages, "We're here for you, son. You did the right thing."<br>I still have to look at the four books Snow pulled down. I'm sure I know what it is about them, considering I've read each one front to back more times than I can count on my fingers and toes, but I'd rather check it over for sure, before I forget again.  
>The girls finish eating and we sit up talking with the parents in the living room until Melanie starts to drift off, her head falling to rest on my shoulder.<br>She doesn't even stir in her sleep when I wrap my large hands around her stomach and pick her small body up. I then take Trinity's hand and walk with her into my room. She's barely hanging on herself.  
>I set Melanie down on the bed, closer to the far side to leave space for me, and then turn the light off.<br>Trinity grabs my hand as I take off my shirt and pants, then shut the door. I pick her up as well, carrying her back over to the bed and climbing in, carefully shifting us under the covers.  
>"Neece," Melanie says sleepily as I settle down between the two of them.<br>"Yeah?" I ask into the darkness.  
>Trinity curls close to my left side and Melanie to my right.<br>"Do you ever wish we were still back in our old home?" She mumbles, drifting off again.  
>"All of the time," I say softly, though my voice is rumbling in my chest and there's no way either of them can miss it.<br>Melanie giggles happily, "I do too."  
>Trinity responds then, surprising us both, "Me three. Then you wouldn't have to worry about President Snow."<br>My stomach clenches and I squeeze them close.  
>Out of the mouths of babes.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Garden (Excerpt from near the end)<strong>

* * *

><p>She reaches down to help me up, her nervous fingers splaying out on her dress, smearing the little droplets of my blood as she struggles to straighten the fabric back into shape.<br>Her soft hands comb the hair from my face as she leans in to kiss me.  
>Once again, I find her comforting me, instead of the other way around. As I cry into her chest and feel her arms wrap around me, my sobs wrecking our bodies.<br>She's the strong one that keeps me together, that cleans the blood from my lips, even though I swear she's more a victim than I am. But it's still her that lays me down in my bed, risking everything for us to be together in front of others.  
>It's what I've always wanted. It's what we've fought over time and time again. Something that she's been ashamed of, something I've begged of her. And now she gives it so willingly. No more hiding out along the garden path, bathing together in the lake and sharing kisses as were hidden amongst the flowers and trees.<br>She folds me up tight in her arms now, kissing my brow and whispering comfort.  
>She's my sanctuary, standing strong against the storms that I fight us through, offering me shelter, offering me safe harbor.<br>It's this time, that I let her roll over on top of me, let her kiss away each tear that falls, allow her to undress me, lay between my legs as we finally fall asleep, her cheek rested on my breast once she's taken care of me.

* * *

><p>"What did he want you to do?"<br>I grip the axe tight as I swing it down into the base of the tree, yanking it free and taking aim again, "He left the papers there where I threw them," I say between breaths, "Some things about pleasuring guests. There was a list. I don't know, I didn't read too much into it before I burned the fucking thing."  
>Johanna nods and takes a swing of her own, "Careful, Neece."<br>"I know," I breathe as we move on to the next tree over, "You should've seen him after I told him to get out of my house, he was furious."  
>Johanna chuckles, "You're not worried?"<br>"Worried about what?" I ask, pulling the axe out of the chipped body of the tree, "What else can he do at this point?"  
>"Oh shit," Johanna says and holds up her hand, "That freak's coming by again, put down your ax."<br>I respond immediately, standing up straight and setting the tool against my leg.  
>The girl isn't really a 'freak'. Honestly, there's not many people that are as immune to me as Johanna is. Most of them just don't talk to me. But some of them...<br>I watch her walk by, her eyes wide and trained on me, her fingers laced together in front of her as she walks passed us.  
>Before I was chosen for the games, people already had some kind of attention on me. Whether it was picking, or teasing, it was some kind of attention. I've always been overweight, even though my family was poor before. I couldn't help it, it was just in my genes.<br>It's not like I was really obese, but I was bigger than the rest, bigger than the toothpicks.  
>Kids never saw that as strength though, being heads taller and ten sizes thicker, and they'd pick on me. One in particular, who had poked and insulted me too much one day last year, and I'd just grabbed him up and slammed him into the ground when he slapped me in the face.<br>Even then, they still would pick on me.  
>It wasn't until the games that they finally stopped. I guess seeing that 'fatty' kill most of the other tributes, who were roughly the age of you, some even older and stronger, will stop anyone from picking on him.<br>Now they just try to stay away from me. But that isn't any better.  
>Johanna glares after the girl and swings at the tree, "You must get tired of that shit."<br>I pick back up my axe, "Kind of. What time is it?"  
>"Five," She answers back and swings.<br>"I should go," I say, shouldering my axe, "Dinner should be done soon."  
>"Yeah, go eat, fat ass."<br>I raise my brow at her and she shrugs, "See you tomorrow?"  
>"Tomorrow," She breathes out as she swings at the tree again.<br>The girl from before, I think her name is... Elroy, is gone completely from sight as I walk, probably going back to her house by the inn.  
>I reach the Victor's Circle, step up to the door and am about to walk in when I hear a loud bang from inside the house, a sound so violent and familiar that it stills my heart in surprise for a moment.<br>The door sits open and I step in carefully, taking off my shoes and gripping the axe tight in my fingers as I try to keep quiet.  
>"No," I hear someone say from the bedrooms down the hall, "No, don't, please–"<br>Another bang and a little girl screams.  
>Melanie.<br>I walk slowly to the hallway and see the back of the Peacekeeper standing there, exposed to me, and I don't even hesitate to bury my axe into his lower spine.  
>He falls down with a sharp gasp in pain, body shuddering and arms reaching behind him helplessly as I yank up the weapon up and progress down the hallway, leaving him to leak on the floor where he's landed.<br>"Melanie, honey!" I shout.  
>She screams again, sobbing and calling for me, "Neece, Neece, please!"<br>I run past a large shape on the ground by my mother's bedroom door, not even bothering to look at it. But she's there by the girl's room, shot right between the eyes and sitting in an upright position against the wall, already dressed and ready for bed.  
>Gripping the axe tight in my hands, I push the door open with my foot and freeze at once when I see them.<br>Two Peacekeepers with my sisters held captive in their arms. They stand in the center of the room, Melanie and Trinity being gripped by most of their long brown hair as they sit in their matching pajamas, tears on their red flushed cheeks as they stare up at me.  
>The guns both go off simultaneously before I can move forward, before I can even try to stop them, but my axe follows suit, beheading the first man.<br>I charge at the other, free of weapon and he shoots me in the shoulder before I grab his jaw and snap his neck between my fingers.  
>His body falls to the floor and I take a few steps back, feeling the tears burn in my eyes as I stare down at the still bodies of my two little sisters, holes in their temples, skull and brain splattered across the soft pink carpet of their bedroom floor.<br>Some spray of blood droplets over Melanie's teddy bear 'Bigsby' that always sits at the foot of the bed before she pulls it up to sleep with on nights on her own. A form of comfort she'd created when she didn't have me there beside her.  
>Melanie, herself, is curled up on her side in the fetal position, little hands balled into fists and Trinity lays with her arms and legs spread out like an eagle, the top of her pajamas lifting up over her bellybutton.<br>The numbness settles in as I look down at them, as I turn back and see my father's body out in the hallway, the one I'd passed by without thinking. He'd been dead before I even got home.  
>And my mother by the door, I'd heard her trying to protect them. I heard her get shot.<br>Melanie and Trinity. My entire family. Gone. Within minutes.  
>Peacekeepers come into the house then, filling the hallway with panicked, surprised shouts and I react before I can stop myself.<br>I pick up the axe from the Peacekeeper that shot Trinity and slam it down on the Head Peacekeeper's outstretched arms, grabbing it up again and forcing it through the underside of his rib cage with a dull thud.  
>I planned to do more, to kill as many of them as I could but I'm surrounded at once and one of them grabs me, twisting my arm back and shoving me against the wall as they wrestle the axe from my fingers.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Me I Am (Poem Excerpt)<strong>

* * *

><p>You turn your back from your brother,<br>And welcome in your heart some other,  
>How can you ever trust another?<br>When you have turned on your own lover?

Though you may make me feel alone,  
>Tear me down, shed from me my throne,<br>Burn my skin and break my bones,  
>A man's heart is still no one elses but his own.<p>

And I am me, and you are you,  
>Honest men are far and few,<br>There's not many who will stay so true.  
>Given time, I might've turned on you too.<p>

* * *

><p>"Former Victor of the games, Neece Gransfors turned on his own family late last night, brutally murdering his mother, his father, and his two little sisters," The reporter announces, staring hard at me through the screen on the wall, "Upon finding him with the bodies at his feet, Peacekeepers tried to attain him when he attacked them as well. Gransfors killed the Head Peacekeeper, Dregga and four of his men before they managed to get the Victor under control."<br>I bow my head, blood caked and dried over my busted lip as I struggle to shut the voices out.  
>They can say what they want about what happened that night. They can keep claiming that I came home from work after talking to Johanna Mason, that I'd seemed normal before I walked in and shot Melanie and Trinity dead in their bedroom. That I turned on the Peacekeepers and even managed to take a few of them out. But that won't change what really happened.<br>Seeing my little sisters begging and crying, trying to stop the men from pulling their hair out, their gasps when the guns went off.  
>Nothing will ever change that.<br>Snow flicks off the screen and settles his hands before him on his own desk comfortably as he stares glowingly at me. "Music," He says, smiling with his puffed, bloody lips. But I refuse to look back.  
>"Music to my ears."<br>"Fuck you," I respond at once and he laughs.  
>"You Victors," He chuckles, watching me, "You always think you can say anything you want. That is... Until I put you in your place."<br>I don't say anything else, turning my head to keep him out of my vision.  
>"So, Neece. About that tongue of yours..."<br>I look up at his words before the Peacekeeper behind me grabs my jaw suddenly in his tight, strong, gloved fingers and forces my mouth open against my will.  
>"I'm sure you can manage without it."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Paint Brush (Poem Excerpt)<strong>

* * *

><p>It's better, not having to worry about it.<br>Better to not think of the right words to say.  
>Better not to feel the nervous stir of my pit.<br>As I watch your eyes widen, and then run away.

To avoid your disappointment in me,  
>I pull that old brush back out,<br>I'll paint every inch of me back to green.  
>Just as long as you don't shout.<p>

Because, I have to hide everything from you.  
>I can't have you hating me for who I am.<br>I have to lie and hide the truth.  
>Make you see a wolf, where there really is a lamb.<p>

* * *

><p>Hopefully you all enjoyed, and that'll give you something to know that I'm still here, doin' what I do best. I miss you guys.<p>

* * *

><p>~KKVG (A)<p> 


	70. Chapter 17 OPTA: Real

**Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision**

* * *

><p><strong>Option A<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>By:<strong> WincestSounds

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Oi, good lord, I am so completely sorry to all of you. It's not that I fergot about this fic or anything, definitely not. I have just been so insanely busy with life.

I know it's unforgivable, but I'm still adamant about finishing this fic in it's entirety, I promise.

This xmas it felt only right to finally take time and give you guys what you deserve, so here it is.

It's not JUST Option A, either. The last chapter of Option P is also up, on my Tumblr. I know a few of you have asked where to find me now, since my site doesn't exist. GO TO MY TUMBLR. You can't confuse it with anyone else, it's my USERNAME. It's really not much more complicated than that.

Happy holidays everyone! I'm sorry you had to wait a century fer this. Imagine if the apocalypse had actually happened and I never had gotten the chance to post this baby!

~WincestSounds (A)

* * *

><p><strong>Anonymous Review Responses:<strong>

**Guest (Chapter 1): **"It's on mine too, glad you like it! ^^"

**Romance Reader (Chapter 67): **"Oh gods, I'm so sorry honey! I was gone fer so long. Literally feels like I'm coming back from the dead omg. I MISSED YOU!"

**Guest (Chapter 68): **"Sorry fer the long ass horrible wait!"

**Kayla (Chapter 60):** "I know right? Yes, I'm a horrible person. E"

**Juju (Chapter 39):** "Yeah no, it's not where you live that's the problem. I stopped paying fer the site, so it's down. You can view Option P on Tumblr, read my author's note fer more info! ^^"

* * *

><p><strong>Side Notes:<strong>

I believe in your strength,

Though I understand - you've felt alone.

Because when you need a friend,

There's no one strong to fall back on.

And your past will still burden you,

But I'll hold you through the pain.

The pain.

So, in the end it's not just you,

With your memories and your scars.

Fall on me if you ever forget,

How beautiful you are.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17 - Real<strong>

* * *

><p>"I use to wonder what it'd be like," I say softly, pressing my lips into Katniss's hair and breathing silently as I watch her hand stroke through the hairs on my arm, "To wake up like this with you. I use to wonder if you'd snore, or move a lot in your sleep, or if you'd stretch in the morning and pop all the bones you could."<p>

Katniss raises her brows, but waits silently for me to continue.

"It's one thing to imagine your eyes closed, your body curled against mine, your hands balled into fists," I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, "It's another to sit there and draw them from my own creatively vivid imagination. But to actually see it? To be able to paint them on canvases, brought to life by experience, rather than making it up... I use to think that imagination won out there, that I could make flowers ten times more gorgeous based off of thought, rather than knowing. Maybe that's the case for them, but not with you."

"It's different?" She asks, voice small and unobtrusive.

"Very," I confirm at once, "Unimaginable, Katniss. Some times there are things in the world that words and images can't describe. It's that feeling, your chest rising next to mine, the stiffness of my body, aching limps and warm sheets. I don't think even **my **paintings have ever captured that, until I actually knew it for myself."

Katniss nods at once, looking back down to my arm, where she's bothered the order of the hairs by trying to push them backwards against the current, "I think there's a lot of things you can say that for. Not really knowing it, until you've done it. Patching up a wound, raising a child you're not ready for, trying new foods, killing an innocent."

"Katniss–"

"I know, sorry," She says, turning her lips into the heat of my skin and pressing them there for a moment, "I'm sorry, Peeta."

"Don't apologize," I push her over carefully, settling on top of her and taking Katniss up into my arms. She clings on at once, fingers pressing into my shoulder blades as she kisses my neck.

We can't even get through normal conversations without some kind of unusually dark theme coming into play. And I know she doesn't do it on purpose, it's just become a normal part of her life, but I really wish it wasn't. I'd do anything to take away all of the trauma burned into our lives, but it's something we'll have to deal with from here on out.

We're not alone, but really we are, because we're the only ones left in the world for one another. And when there's only one, you can do nothing to avoid them. Whether we go through this willingly or not, we'll always be a part of each other's lives.

The worst part is knowing that one of us is going to be without the other, in the end. One of us is going to have to die alone. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure it isn't Katniss. She's lost enough people in her life, the last thing she should ever have to deal with is being without her husband. I can handle it, I can take it a lot better than she can. I can lose her first, knowing that she's passed on safely, knowing that I was there for her.

* * *

><p>It's times like now that I'm reminded that Prim isn't alive. When I bake blueberry muffins, or her favorite strawberry cookies, how she'd cover her hand in powdered sugar to roll them into balls and set them perfectly on the trays. She was my little helper, my best friend - in a lot of ways.<p>

I bake them for her now, remember everything I can, as hard as I can. I remember her squinchy face when she smelled baked bread, I remember how large my oven mitts were on her - going up to her elbows, I remember threatening to tickle her under the soles of her feet, and how she always managed to get flour on her nose, no matter what.

They're memories I don't have to try and struggle to remember, and I never have to ask Katniss if they're real. I've always known Prim, she's never changed. And now, she never will.

Where Katniss avoids trying to remember these things, I bring them to the forefront of my mind. It's painful, it hurts, but I never want to forget Katniss's little sister, and her adoration for my iced cakes and cookies.

If I said I didn't cry thinking about her, I'd be lying, but it's not such a bad thing - as long as Katniss never sees. We've all lost loved ones, people we've cared about, but the world would've actually been a better place - with Prim in it. Without her, it's like someone's taken a part of the sun and snuffed out it's light.

It makes anything sweet I make, taste completely soured.

And the effect it's had on Haymitch and Celeste is more monumental than Katniss and I. They're both alone, and everyone loved Prim. Katniss's mother doesn't even bother to visit the last daughter she has left, and Haymitch has lost ten too many people that've mattered in his life.

He may be an old, miserable drunk, but he does his best to keep it together - for Katniss and I. At least we've both still got him. We're all wounded soldiers, and we all manage in our own ways.

* * *

><p>Katniss wakes me barely an hour into sleep, not by the usual - screaming and kicking - but by pressing her lips to mine. It's a more than welcome wake, very unexpected, but <strong>very <strong>much welcome. I don't think she actually ever fell asleep at all, I think she's just been laying here, thinking over everything. With time like we have, thinking is one of the most common things we do, sitting for hours in silence, while our minds mull things over.

I know Katniss does it a lot, over-analyzing some things, I'm sure, it's in her nature. But at least she's giving them thought.

Her lips press firmly to mine, almost shaking, nervous, I'm guessing. Her fingernails press into the skin of my left peck, the warm pads of them running achingly slow over my nipple. I don't know if she's doing it on purpose, but I'm quite awake now - every single part of me is.

I turn into her mouth, opening my own to taste her lips. It's heated all of a sudden, eager, and she's climbing onto me. Her hands are on my chest and in my hair, the warmth of her body arching into mine as she pulls back to look into my eyes.

"Not yet," She says, breathless as she smiles, "But soon, can we–?"

She doesn't have to say it, it's... Very obvious, what she wants to do. So I nod, cradling the back of her head as I bring her in again, "Yeah," I agree, "soon."

She kisses me once more, her long hair pillowing around us, almost black in the night and I wrap my arms around her thin waist, unable to resist my hips canting upwards into her and she gasps.

"Peeta," She whispers against my mouth, legs parting and knees sliding up over the sheets to settle on either side of my waist.

Katniss's skin is heated under my palms and I run them up under her top, fingers tracing the soft skin of her stomach, up around to the scars on her back. I've never really touched them, but I'll adore them with every ounce of my soul.

I'm careful with her, so careful, as I calm myself and close my eyes, pressing my nose against her jaw line and breathing slower as we settle back down.

* * *

><p>"I already have four frozen loafs," Haymitch argues as I set down the loaf of bread in my hands. He watches me wearily, eyes a bit colder than usual. He's not having a good day.<p>

"Alright, well this one's warm, so have a bit, before it gets cold and you throw it in with the rest of them," He has to know I won't give up until I've had my way, that's how I've always been, and I guess it's sticking.

He nods finally and takes the end piece I carve out for him. I'll bet you the other four are missing the ends as well, it's his favorite part.

Haymitch bites into the warmed bread and I almost see him visually relax into it. It's probably still more tense than anyone else I've ever met, but it's significant for him, "So what brings you around today?"

"Actually," I start, taking a seat on the stool beside his, "I uh... I have a favor to ask."

"Name it," He says at once, and it's good to know that he means it. One thing I can always rely on is Haymitch's ability to both take me by surprise, and warm any parts of me that are feeling even slightly ill towards him.

I look down at my hands nervously and he's raising his brows when I glance back up at him.

He then looks sort of concerned, and stern, at the same time, "Alright, go ahead. Out with it."

I've faced down Tributes in the games better than this, but it's literally like asking your father, "I was just wondering, I know you're probably my best bet, if it's even possible to... To get protection."

Haymitch knows exactly what I mean the moment it's said, his back straightening up as he stares at me in a look that could only be referred to as 'taken aback'. He relaxes after a brief moment though, slowly smiling and nodding before patting me on the back, "Yeah, alright. I can get you some. It's better than you not asking me at all, I guess. I'm glad for you, and I mean it, I really am. It's about time the two of you stopped messing around, and got serious."

"Thank you, Haymitch," I tell him, relieved that he's being so easy about the entire thing. In all honesty, the situation could've become really awkward and uncomfortable, but he evaded it.

In a lot of ways, he really **is **like my father. I mean, the two men are completely different in very, very many ways, but they're also similar in some. Sensitive to harmless people, caring and considerate, they have good senses of humor, and they both are dear and close to me. One by blood, and the other by extreme circumstances.

* * *

><p>I don't think I'll ever be able to spend as much time with Katniss as I want to. Pressing my hands into her skin, mapping her body, running my lips over every inch I can - there'll never actually be enough, in the end; I'm sure of it. I can kiss the feather soft curls of her lashes for hours if I really want to, or if she even has the patience to sit there and let me do it. I could rub out every kink and knot in her muscles until I'm worn myself, I'll still not be satisfied.<p>

I won't be satisfied with having her every night from here on out, or having children with her, or seeing her grow old. I'm pretty sure that this isn't the life that was meant for us, we should've never gone through what we did. What was suppose to happen, though, may have not been perfect either, but it would've been expected. Katniss never actually getting drawn, and the both of us going on our own ways, until I finally got up the nerves and professed my love for her. And we weren't scarred and ruined by Snow.

But it's like a fairytale, at this point, to think that way. _Romantic. Delusional_. Reality is harsh, people get ruined, things don't happen the way you want them to.

I won't be satisfied, but I'll be more happy than I would've ever been in any other possible outcome, and that's what I have to take from this.

* * *

><p>"You love me. Real or not real?" I ask breathlessly, turning my nose into the hair by her ear, sweated and sticking to her skin.<p>

She smiles and moves in close, her warm body against mine, slick and smooth as she lifts a leg to wrap around my waist, "Real."

I roll over carefully, settling my body on top of hers. I stare down into her eyes, run my thumb over her forehead before leaning in and pressing my lips to hers. She's shaking against me, still spent and excited.

"Tell me you mean that, Katniss," I stare into her eyes, "I trust you, I believe you, but I need to hear it."

"It's real," She says as she smiles, "Really real." Her hand touches my cheek and I lean into it, unable not to.

I settle my forehead against her's, closing my eyes and breathing in carefully, "I know things have been really... Really rough for the both of us. Almost all our lives, it's been constant and looming over head, but the games are gone, they're done. Hopefully, they won't ever return, and we'll be here to stop them, if they do. But I want something for us, Katniss. I want something to be ours, something between us. I don't just want to rest, not completely."

"What are you asking for?" Katniss eyes me suspiciously, raising one of her defined brows as if to accuse me.

"Is it so wrong to want children?" I ask, almost nervously, "I mean, I want them. You'd be an amazing mother, Katniss, and you know you would. Is it really so bad, to want that for us?"

"Every time I turn around, you're asking for babies."

"Because I want them."

Katniss closes her mouth and looks at me almost glaringly, "What makes you think **I **do?"

"I know you," I explain, tucking a sweaty strand of hair away, "I know you better than anyone else, Katniss. I know you want them. You're just torturing yourself, by saying 'no' every time I ask."

She seems to consider it for a moment, she knows I'm right, and she can't really hold any lasting argument anymore. Finally, she nods, "Alright, if you can get me pregnant, I'll have your babies."

I'm not sure if it's the least arousing thing, or the **most **arousing thing she's ever said to me, but it does the job. I'm almost completely hard at once, leaning in to press my body to hers and watch her eyes widen.

"Is it really _that _good?" She asked, chuckling as her body responds, arching and sliding against mine.

"To hear the woman I love tell me that she wants my children?" I ask, breathing and nipping against her jaw line, "God, yes it is, Katniss."

It's very good. Because Katniss would never actually agree to something that she didn't want to do, not something as big as having children. Yes, I'm a persistent man, and I would've asked until the ends of my days, but she never had to actually say 'yes'. She's choosing to do so now, because she does really, really want to have them.

Katniss grabs my shoulders, her nose touching mine as I settle back on top of her, hiking her legs and pressing into her again.

She gasps, hands moving up into the hair at the nape of my neck, mouth open slightly in awe as I move carefully, thrusting into her. We're both still so sensitive, bodies shaking and shivering against one another.

I drop my head to her sweated chest, kissing the skin as I draw her up into my arms, rolling over and almost sighing at the feel of the cold bed sheets just by where we'd settled in. My hands drop to her waist as she moves on me, clasping the skin and guiding her down as her hair spills down her shoulders.

The freckles over her breasts are nearly glowing in the warm light of the room, her skin heated, flushed from before.

She looks beautiful like this - more carefree than I've seen her, probably ever before. Though her body is practically dripping with sweat, and her brows are notched in the broken way they are, when I know she's close to relief, she's unguarded, unprepared, but excited.

I grip her hips tighter, pulling her down and rocking my own up into her, catching her by surprise and her hand slips off my shoulder, onto the pillow by my head and her eyes are suddenly level with mine - stunned and overwhelmed as she shakes and trembles, gasping my name before she smiles and laughs, taking my face in her hands and kissing me breathlessly.

It's honestly more than I can handle myself, the clenching walls around me, tightening with her laughter, and I cup her cheek with one hand, running my thumb over her bottom lip as we slow, as we fold up into one another - her causing me to shake, and me returning the favor.

I press my forehead to hers as the laughter dies down and she stares into my eyes again.

"You love me. Real or not real?" She asks, grinning as she moves a wet sop of bangs from my forehead.

"Real," I whisper back, "Always real, Katniss."

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Notes:<strong>

Don't ferget to review! And no, this isn't the end, there's STILL the epilogue.

~WincestSounds


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